Sons & Daughters
by AnglophileveterisAmericae
Summary: Can you combine Austen's Sense and Sensibility with the American Revolution? What would happen if you did..? The title is a reference to the Sons of Liberty as well as the Daughters of Liberty.
1. Prologue

**Acknowledgement**.

I am an avid admirer of Jane Austen's novels. This my first attempt of an AU version of Sense and Sensibility. In contrast to my earlier stories, this time I use Austen's original canon and not the canon's from Ang Lee's movie adaption. All of Austen's canons will be mentioned, some will even be portrayed as OOC those will be Eliza Williams, Nancy, and Lucy Steel , the two Steel sisters will not have any surname.

My OCs are Amy,Joe Ferrars, Louis, Theodore, Mrs. Ramsey, Mr. Xanders, Mr. O'Shannessy and son, and Mr. McTavish family.

Since it is supposed to take place during Revolutionary War, it may or may not be a surprise that some historical figures from the actual Revolutionary War will be included.

Unlike my previous stories this one will be written in American English since it takes place in America.

Therefore the setting will not be Sussex, Dorsetshire, Somersetshire, Devonshire, or Essex but Delaware, Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, New Jersey, Georgia, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Boston,Maryland, South Carolina, New Hampshire, Virginia, Province of New York,and Rhode Island.

Much of the events will be centered on Massachusetts, Boston as well as Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

 _The story begins on the 17th of December 1773._

* * *

It was a most peculiar scene that took place once the long drawn meeting finally had ended.

A crowd consisting of nearly two hundred men began to gather on a nearby hill. Perhaps it would have been less peculiar if it wasn't for the fact that most if not all men were disguised. All the men divided further into groups of two,and they began to chant angry Indian war cries as they began to enter the three ships.

As he heaved The Eleanor's tea chest down into the Boston harbor, John Dashwood thought to himself.

"My wife is very fond of her tea," declared young Dashwood in clear, high voice.

"Sounds just like our sister," sighed Robert.

"However, I refuse to accept that we are to pay taxes in Parliament where we have no representation." Dashwood continued looking straight at the other two men. He crossed his arms around his shoulders.

"I, for one, agree with dear brother-in-law; however, I do confess that I am nervous about this. The thought of my sister and your wife discovering our involvement has been weighing me down lately." Robert confessed in a slow low tone of voice.

"Forgive me, dear Robert, I for one do not believe it is fair. Why should we have to pay taxes to buy the East India Company's shipment of tea!?" Dashwood said in high-pitched upset voice.

"Believe me, John, I do agree with you on what you say." Robert declared and nodded towards his older brother-in-law.

"I refuse to help save the British East India Company from going bankrupt," Dashwood spitted out the words in anger now.

"I cannot stand idle by. Something must be done!" Robert cried out vehmently and looked back towards his sister's husband.

"As I am the oldest, I believe I should go first-provided there are no objections?" John said with arms crossed, his words authoritative and his voice determined.

The stance was contagious for soon Robert Ferrars too had his arms crossed.

"In case we are discovered, I reckon I should be the next to go."

Willoughby's response was more or less delayed as he stuttered and struggled to respond.

"Well, I.. I don't know, to be honest. Uh, I mean you both seem to make valid points. I imagine most of the English colonists would agree with us but you know there is certain to be huge unimaginable punishments if we are ever discovered."

"It is unfair that we are forced to pay taxes without any representation in the British Parliament. They shouldn't be allowed to tax us colonists. I certainly will not contribute to the profit to the East India Company's profit, especially not from their sales from tea." Dashwood confidently said as he crossed his shoulders.

Again Willoughby stuttered to respond.

"Well...To be honest I mean... Uh, to be honest, both of you seem to make valid arguments. I imagine that the English colonists would agree with us. The British and the East India Company are certain to seek retaliation and punish us."

"Willoughby, please don't tell us that you have changed your mind!" Robert uttered suddenly.

Eventually, Willoughby heaved the tea chests from The Eleanor into the harbor after looking nervously around his shoulder.

John, placed his arm around his brother-in-law's shoulders.

"Look Robert, even if Willoughby decides to change his mind, I'm certain we will still be able to carry out our plans."

Robert, sounding astonished said: "You were right, John. It wasn't an exaggeration. There must be several hundred men that has gathered in the harbor."

Nodding as he turned his head backwards in the direction of a nearby hill. "The crowd, that we left, on the hill, were over two hundred."

Giving his sister's husband a friendly slap on the back, Robert said: "Well, Willoughby, this means we will release you from your pledge, with the men on the hill and the men in the harbor. We will be able to find your replacement."

As a kind reminder, John addressed the other men. "Willoughby, I assume you know the English was only able to implement the Tea Act because of the Taxation of Colonies Act."

One of the first two to enter The Darthmouth was John Dashwood and he soon took charge of the task - the astonished Captain Hall did not object.

Robert was supposed to follow suit and begin to heave The Beaver's tea chests into the Boston harbor. He seemed to hesitate, as he stopped in his steps and looked back down towards the gathered crowd of people.

"Now what's wrong Robert?" asked a nervous Willoughby.

"It is probably nothing. I just thought I saw someone I recognized..." Robert mumbled.

"Please Robert do not say you too have changed your mind and need persuasion now!"

"My sister will be filled with contempt toward me if she knew of our actions tonight," Robert answered without thinking.

A baffled Captain Coffin could only manage to silently look on.

While both The Darthmouth and The Eleanor had carried a shipment of one hundred fourteen chests of refreshments, The Beaver had held one hundred and twelve. After three hours, no more tea chests could be found and the dumping of the brew was probably made easier since they used their tomahawks to dispose of the pekoe. In total three hundred and thirty-six crates of beverage went into the Boston harbor.

Surprisingly, the men involved in the dumping of the managed to commit their protest act without having their bad disguises discovered. All the three men each had much at stake and lose if their involvement ever was found out. Robert may have been, a second son yet he was still expected to behave a certain way, especially since he was a son in the New York Ferrars family.

* * *

Back in New York and at the Ferrars' farm, one of the many slaves was still dressed as if he were to get up and work. In the rows of houses, the distant sound of heavy snoring, crying children and the usual moans made it appear as if it was an ordinary day.

Joe Ferrars tip-toed back to the bunk beds and was only pretending to be asleep, hoping he could run away before the Ferrars had woke up.

He really did not have to run away, he just dreaded sad farewells... he wanted forget everything he knew of, but Joe was not certain if he wanted to give up the trusted life at the Ferrars farm.

He had been one of the two hundred workers employed at the Ferrars Iron Nest farm. The family grew corn, barley and some wheat. Usually the air was not calm. Now the only other sound that he had grown familiar to was the sound from the wind running through the trees and their leaves - with the distant roar from the Hudson River.


	2. Prelude I

After ten years of faithful service, Edward Ferrars' had convinced his parents to pay for Joe's liberation. Now a free man, Joe was not obligated to continue working on the Ferrars' farm. Robert Ferrars had provided Joe with his own outgrown spatterdashes, stockings, a white linen shirt, a cloak and a cravat. The cloak was a few inches short for Joe, just as the stockings, not completely reached his knees, the arms of the shirt were a little short for Joe, and the waistcoat was too tight to button up completely.

 _What else was he supposed to do?_

 _At least not before the events of the Boston Massacre and the Dumping of Tea in Boston those— convinced Joe he could not stand by and watch his fellow people suffer and struggle as they fought a battle that he should be part of._

Joe had heard a rumor of Lord Dunmore's Ethiopian regiment that it was made up of slaves. He was heading for Virginia, and he could only hope he would be he told himself he could always join the Black Loyalists and do his service in the Black Brigade. Since Joe no longer was an African slave, he might be better off serving in the Black Brigade. _Suddenly his life had found a meaning —now he would fight to liberate his fellow Black people. He was still unsure if the British or the colonists would be first to grant liberation to all indentured servants. Yet he was willing to sacrifice his life if it meant that full abolishment of slavery would come_.

Mrs. Ramsey, the house keeper, usually so stoic —struggled to maintain her calm disposition. While she sighed, Edward nodded in encouragement and still had his right arm around Joe's.

She struggled to conceal her emotions and her tears. Her voice cracked at her first attempt.

"Joe, I think I must commend for your willingness to surrender your life."

He felt melancholic as he sensed that this would be the last time he ever was at the Ferrars Iron Nest.

He sighed and gave a relieved smile. "It seems proper." Joe nodded in silence as he overlooked the three people.

"If I were you, I would be sure to join the Loyalists since it seems more likely that the British eventually will outlaw slavery." Mrs. Ramsey discreetly blew her nose in her handkerchief.

He stopped chewing on the straw and wrinkled his forehead as if he was thinking hard.

"Personally, I'm not yet convinced. But if you say that you believe the British will grant all indentured workers freedom, then how am I to disagree?"

The younger son prepared to place his arms around Joe's shoulders, while eyeing his older brother seeking his approval and nodded slowly as he turned and looked back at the rows of little houses.

"You truly are a hero, Joe, and I'm certain you would be a nice addition to any regiment in the British army."

It had been slightly improper to continue housing Joe in the same buildings as the indentured servants. But Joe had not complained — he had insisted. He didn't want to part with the likes of them even if he now was a free Black man.

The younger man suddenly stopped as he felt embarrassed and placed his hands behind his back.

Lifting of his hat Joe whispered, "You flatter me, Robert."

Even though Robert was the second son, his parents still expected both sons to share the same opinions and manners as was expected of a British loyalist. Still it had not stopped Robert; he was one of the first to volunteer his services for the Sons of Liberty. Did he regret his involvement in the Intolerable Acts? To be honest, he did not regret it. He felt proud that he had been a part of an event that was certain to influence the politics of the British. Never before had he so openly defied his parents or his family.

He wondered what would happen once his parents discovered that their son had been responsible for the Dumping of the Tea. He assumed the consequences for his alliance with the Sons of Liberty would not be as harsh for him as if it had been his older brother. Robert did not depend on his parents for his livelihood nor future.

Robert remembered what his brother said to him when it was his twentieth birthday:

"My dear brother, I confess I envy you. Our parents do not seem to expect as much from you as they apparently do from my person. If you were a future member of the Sons of Liberty, I am convinced our parents may not punish you. After all, dear Robert, since you are three years younger than I am you will not inherit Father."

Robert saw Joe as his equal, like a dear friend or almost as a brother. He wanted Joe to know just how much he cared for him.

The older brother shook his head to let his brother know that such a term of endearment would have been improper.

Curiously Edward asked: "Joe, have you considered what you will be doing if the British abolish slavery?"

Joe turned his head as he heard the oldest son address him. He ran his hand through his hair before placing the hat back. "I haven't really thought about it, sir. I suppose I would want to settle down and start a family. But first of all, I need a wife."

He was surprised to hear the words that now came out of his mouth. Before his liberation, he was content with his life even if it had become somewhat routine.

Mrs. Ramsey nodded towards the oldest son.

" _Edward, remember who you are. You are Ferrars after all! Be proud of your British heritage and honor it by showing loyalty to the English Crown! When you eventually will marry, your future wife must be a daughter to another Loyalist. You may think a pleasing countenance is all that matters for a wife; if so then please revise your opinion, dear Edward! No, on the contrary my son what really matters is that the future Mrs. Ferrars has respectable dowry, perhaps with estate or property attached to it. Her reputation must be flawless and she should have the wealth and social standing to demand respect. Do not place to much importance on love: think instead of if the woman would be able to maintain a household and if her manners indicate if she would be a suitable mother to your sons._ "

Edward grew up knowing of what his parents and his sister expected of him. His parent's words were the first thing he remembered when he woke up and the last thing he thought off when he went to sleep. His parents had raised him well. That meant that he should not associate himself with the help at least that was highly inappropriate behavior that Mrs. Ferrars and her daughter did not support at all. Yet Edward did not consider Joe to be part of the help instead, he was always courteous towards any of the indentured workers.

"Please take my advice, Joe, the woman you decide to marry must have finished her indenturement, or else your future children might be born into servitude." The housekeeper said, with teary eyes and a thick voice.

He nodded towards Mrs .Ramsey and delivered a genuine smile." That is very good advice. I'll be certain to remember that."

Suddenly Robert asked as if he was in a hurry: "But, Joe, where exactly will you go?"

He wrinkled his forehead and thought for a moment."I suppose I should try to get to Boston Massachusetts, or as close as I could get."

Since the Boston Massacre and the Boston Tea Party both had occurred there, Joe thought it was wise to try to get to Boston.

Sighing and shrugging her shoulders looked into Joe's dark eyes, Mrs. Ramsey spoke." Please be careful, Joe. Even if it is for a noble cause."

She was the first that had begun waving her farewell to Joe. Besides the eldest Ferrars son, none of the Ferrars family members were willing to bid farewell to one of their most loyal servants.

With shiny eyes and tears the older man's voice cracked.

"We will miss you terribly, Joe."

* * *

Edward began waving towards Joe who now was turning away from the farm. Joe turned back smiled and begun waving as well? Edward had tried to persuade his parents to bid farewell to Joe,but Mr. Ferrars and his wife were both proud and of the opinion that servants should know their place. Liberation didn't improve an indentured servant's social class.

Robert, always looked forward to the days when his only brother was at home and was eager to join his elder brother. Like Edward, Robert had been very fond of Joe and it was likely they would been closer if Mr. and Mrs. Ferrars hadn't intervened.

The proud parents refused to step outside. Joe was not a guest or relative to them. Mr Ferrars wasn't proud of the fact that his eldest son was so friendly with the help and his younger brother seemed to be the same. Mr. Ferrars sighed when Mrs. Ferrars asked for their sons' whereabouts, knowing perfectly well where the two of them would be.

Mrs. Ferrars might not want to bid farewell to Joe, but that didn't mean she didn't want to know what her two sons were up to. She had been silently peaking behind the curtain in her room.

As soon as Joe has left, I shall see to it that Robert does not continue in his brother's path. Or else I'll disown the both of them, Mrs. Ferrars thought.

Joe's last memory of The Ferrars Iron Nest Farm, was the picture of the crying housekeeper, and the sons standing in the yard surrounded by hawthorns, American larch, and red maples. He made no hurry going down the slope and the gravel road that would take him away from the farm.

A few days later, over two hundred miles further to the south, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and at his Norland Park estate, Fanny's father-in-law Henry was both preoccupied with daily chores and worried about the future of his family second family. The trees on Norland Plantation were black cherry, black birch, beech, maple, oak, ash and hemlock that grew exclusively near water.

* * *

If the stake was high for the second Ferrars son, the stake for John Dashwood may have been even higher, for he, being the only son, to a fence-sitter.

 _Henry Dashwood thought of himself as a very privileged man, married twice he had a son and from his current marriage three young daughters._ Their eldest, Elinor despite having had her first assembly— three years ago, she was still waiting for her first promise of marriage. _In time, Henry knew Elinor would be a married woman._

 _She was the least of his worries._

Exchanging a look of love and respect, Elinor said, "Father, I hope the wrinkles in your face nor your grey hairs is a testament that I caused you to worry."

The man sighed and shrugged his shoulders, "How could I not dear Elinor? Your first assembly and cotillion was three years ago now."

"I am certain I will not end up a spinster. Hopefully a gracious man will make an offer for my hand eventually." Elinor began smoothing her father's wrinkled hand.

The less he worried for his eldest, the more he worried for the other two, especially his second: Marianne. She was naive and curious, and of his three daughters she was considered the most handsome. Unless the situation with the British improved or was resolved, he worried that if war broke out, Marianne would become his constant worry.

"I hope I will be able to find myself a beau!" sighed Marianne and looked longingly into room. "Of course, I would not want to marry until Elinor has done the same."

Her sister reprimanded and shrug her shoulders, "Marianne, if you think people marry out of love I am afraid you are mistaken."

"Mama, surely Elinor must be wrong? You married father out of love is it not so?" Concerned the second daughter lowered her voice.

"Unfortunately, Marianne, Elinor is right. I did not love your father before I married him. "Her mother sighed dejectedly.

As the family gathered for supper, and a few hours later Henry and his wife resumed their serious discussion about their daughter Marianne. The sun had begun to set and it was dark, the vague light from the fire place was the only light in the dining room apart from the lit candles in the candelabras on the table.

"Annie dear, I think we better send Marianne on her first assembly soon. "Perhaps she could go with Elinor, "he cleared his voice, before he looked straight at his wife behind the corner of his spectacles.

"Henry darling, I was just thinking the same."Mrs. Dashwood smiled and gave a sigh of relief.

"I'd prefer to see her married too with a short engagement if need be,"he said, with a strict authoritative voice.

In a more uplifting tone of voice, Mrs. Dashwood returned her husband's look.

"It's rather unconventional to let your second marry before your firstborn, but I think it's the best considering the current situation."

"I'm hoping that I'd still be around in time for our youngest first cotillion, too," Henry took a sip of wine.

"My one and constant worry will always be our beloved, Marianne. Margaret still has time to improve her character." Mrs. Dashwood began stirring in her soup.

 _Henry was hoping that a marriage between one of his daughters and a wealthy plantation or factory owner would be very beneficial for Norland. Thanks to his young wife, Norland had been able to start producing staves and headings made of pine_. The pine in turn was sent from Georgia and the Palmer's big pine plantation.

* * *

At first, he had been indecisive about what direction Norland should take all those years ago when his first wife passed— As Norland had been one of the largest tobacco plantations in not only Philadelphia but the entire New England the start, he had considered sugar, rice, and even cotton—since he was a progressive man that always took good care of his indentured workers. He thought it was wise to start producing something that could be produced on a task run basis. It would be better for his workforce even if the profit would decrease. He had thirty field hands employed equally between his fishing and his horses, and of the remaining twenty-five, fifteen were house workers, while the last ten were skilled laborers that he sometimes rented out for an extra income.

As the first Dashwood to choose to settle down in Pennsylvania, he thought it was an insult for the colonists to have to pay taxes the British —high taxes at that too. He was proud to be a British man, but he ultimately wanted what would be in the best interest of his second wife and three young daughters.

Of course he'd like to see at least one of his daughters married to a British gentleman.

Fortunately for Henry, Sir John Middleton and Mr. Pratt were all proud supports of the English cause. Henry was indecisive about what would be the right party to side with: the Loyalists or the Patriots. He saw benefits of siding with either party, but he hoped he wouldn't have to be forced to choose a side.

John —his only son—was as indecisive as himself, and it was widely known within New England that the Ferrars family from New York was one of the oldest British families that were supporters of the British king. Several years ago, his only son had decided to marry only on a whim and out of love.

 _Henry was no longer sure of his son's opinion in the heated conflict. His son's connection to British loyalists might turn into something of an obstacle—as he now was trying to form new lasting alliances between the Dashwood's and other mighty plantation owners._ The Ferrars actually ran a larger farm that cultivated corn, wheat and barley. They even had a distinguished workforce of one hundred indentured workers on their farm.

The Norland Plantation had employed a modest crowd for over twenty years. Since they no longer cultivated their own pine, there was only enough work to keep fifteen field hands employed. The other ten were house workers, and the last five worked were they were needed. But those were the ones who were also able to develop into skilled workers. Out of the entire plantation owner, Henry Dashwood's reputation had been tarnished when he decided to marry his second wife.

He lost what little he had left on his reputation when he decided to end the established tobacco cultivation in exchange for pine-produced products. He would have been one of the first to liberate his field hands if his older son had not interfered. Of course he was only able to free the slaves that were in his own possession and not given to him in his marriage from either of his wives. As for the indentured workers, he had released them as soon as their contracts expired.

* * *

Meanwhile, John Langdon had made his way through Portsmouth accompanied by a drummer. They had gathered a crowd to climb on top and claim the fort. Several hundred men had bravely without hesitation answered to his call, setting out for the Castle passing through the Piscataqua River. One of the five soldiers was Mr. Willoughby.

Captain John Cochran was the provincial leader as well as the only captain. With him, five provincial soldiers were stationed at Fort William and was a very small crowd of merely six courageous soldiers that bravely had decided to defend the fort. Despite the odds against them, they had stubbornly refused to surrender to the Patriots. John Sullivan, leader of the rebels had returned to the fort late on the night of December 15. Cleverly, without any sign of resistance, the men overran the post without gunfire and managed to removed muskets, military supplies, and over ten cannons, all property of the King.

Four months before his more famous ride in Massachusetts, Paul Revere rode to Portsmouth to sound the alarm. Willoughby would soon join the fight, but only when it came to New Jersey and his modest farm Combe Magna. Willoughby had arrived back in Boston undisguised as he was there to help try to establish the Sons of Liberty in Boston.

Besides returning back to Boston, to help recruit more people to the infamous opposition, Willoughby had another —more private— reason for his visit in Boston. Almost a year ago, when he arrived to carry out the Dumping of the Tea, he had noticed a very dashing girl from out of the corner of his eyes corner of his eyes. He first laid eyes on her near the Powder House Square.

The young girl was exuberant, and Willoughby could not help but notice her captivatingly deep, dark eyes, her shiny dark curls, her dimples and her gullible smile. As soon as Willoughby laid eyes on her, he knew he had to know exactly who the young girl was. He admitted to himself that he was smitten by her without even knowing who she was or if it was socially acceptable to pursue someone like her. Willoughby thought she reminded him of someone that he knew and lost three years ago. Not in her appearance by any means—but by her youthfulness and joy.

"Isn't it audacious that such beauty can be found in a free mulatto woman? No wonder Mr. Brandon chose to liberate her after her poor mother passed while giving birth to her," Mr. Palmer whispered in Willoughby's ear as he noticed how Willoughby reacted to the young girl. Mr. Brandon from Massachusetts had a salt plantation and his indentured workers presently were one hundred. Many of them were employed to either run his salt plantation— the remaining was engaged in fishing or to run his modest farm.

Mr. Palmer was a proud citizen of Savannah, Georgia and happened to be in Boston on the very same day as Mr . Willoughby. As the owner of the moderate pine plantation Cleveland, his produce was always in high demand.

"Oh, that's a shame—if you had not told me of the girl's social standing, I would not have known." He sighed, touching his forehead and he replied thoughtfully.

Even though he discovered that her social standing meant he shouldn't associate with her, since Eliza—as the girl was named—was below his class, he still couldn't help himself—his desire for her was too deep, he had not loved anyone after the loss of his first love. Besides, he was in Boston now, so nobody would know of any moral misconduct that he might be guilty of. Willoughby had finally made up his mind he was going to pursue Eliza discreetly while he was in Boston.


	3. Prelude II

Eliza, the daughter to one of Mr. Brandon's female slaves still in the central town of Boston, Massachusetts. Even though she was aware of the fact that she was supposed to go straight back to the Delaford farm something made her linger.

She had first noticed the distinguished gentleman in town, where he had insisted on accompanying her home.

"You'll allow me to escort you home." The stranger said without looking gaze was intense and made Eliza uncomfortable, since she wasn't used to male attention.

"If you feel you must, sir," she said and dropped her eyes.

She knew Mr. Brandon wouldn't have approved of a stranger escorting her home -not without a female chaperone. She nodded silently as a response and felt her cheeks go warm. As they got closer to Delaford, the elms, oaks and mahogany were replaced by maples.

It had not been easy for Eliza to escape Monsieur Yvon's watchful eyes. Eliza felt like Mr Brandon's younger brother-in-law never seemed to take his eyes off of her. For Mr Brandon, it was very convenient that his brother-in-law had chosen to settle down in Greater Boston with his sister. Whenever Mr. Brandon was away on business his French brother-in-law was sent for to look after his farm and salt plantation.

But now Eliza's heart was pounding in her chest-and it wasn't because she was afraid the Monsieur would discover she snuck away. At first, she glanced indiscreetly over at the handsome man. In the back of her mind, she could hear Mr. Brandon's thoughtful words of warning in his usual authoritative voice, "Be careful, Eliza- don't forget where you came from. If you do, you will be hurt."

This made her rather shy. She blushed as she tried to hide her fingers in her skirts. The man was looking tentatively into her deep brown eyes as he approached. She was young and inexperienced, and her judge of character was tainted by her naivety. She wanted to be loved and find a husband so she could create a family of her own.

Since she was a young Mulatto girl, she knew that her freedom was worth little or next to nothing. Mr. Brandon-her mother's plantation owner, had become like the father she had never known, and she had promised him that she wouldn't leave the Delaford farm until he had found himself a wife.

Before that, Eliza felt she couldn't marry and so far, she had refused to listen to the terms of endearment and promises of love that many a young man had uttered. She knew she only could be married to another indentured worker or a liberated slave.

The man who was watching her stopped, a faint smile on his lips as he seemed unable to look away from her. Eliza again felt a blush burning her cheeks, and dropped her eyes.

"I have to say, Miss, I love your hair," he said suddenly.

If Mr. Brandon would have been around, she probably would not have listened to the young stranger's sweet words. But he wasn't, and instead of rebuffing the man, Eliza found herself helpless to his flattery and endearing words. He was very handsome and tall. She wrapped her hands in her skirts again, but dared to peek up at him.

He noticed. "May I ask your name?"

"E-Eliza," she offered quietly.

"A pretty name for a pretty girl." He smiled at her.

At first she was concerned and wondered why the man had looked at her. Clearly, someone like the English gentleman wouldn't think twice about so much as looking at her. But, something in his appearance and his manners made Eliza feel like he was different from the rest.

"I have to go," she said suddenly, nervousness fluttering around her stomach like a dozen butterflies.

"May I see you again?" he asked, reaching out to clasp her hand in his.

Eliza shook her head, certain that she had never been so flattered in all her life. His hand was firm, warm, and his thumb traced across her knuckles in a way that should have been inappropriate.

"Please Miss, I assure you-you can trust my word. Just grant me my wish and agree to see me one more time," he begged.

"Sir, you flatter me for reasons that I can't imagine."

"Miss, I insist I must see you again! Please, I beg you. Give me a chance to prove that I am trustworthy."

Eliza dared to look into his dark green eyes and, seeing his earnest expression, offered a faint excuse. "But sir, I don't know you. I had never met you until today. You don't seem to be a local or else I would have known your name."

"All the more reason to agree to see me one more time so you can get to know me better, then." He answered. "Meet me outside the Boston tavern tomorrow at four and I'll tell you my name."

Eliza felt as though she were about to cross a fence that, once crossed, she could never come back from. But, she reasoned, he was being so kind to her and - her heart thudded a little faster against her ribs as she took in his square jaw and dark eyes-he was very handsome. Against better judgement, she offered him the smallest of nods, pulling her hand away from his reluctantly.

* * *

"Eliza, where have you gone off to? I have not seen you since last night?" The sound of Monsieur Yvon's worried voice made both of them look at each other.

"Please leave immediately, sir. If you are discovered near the property without reason, I fear what would happen to you," Eliza whispered to the stranger.

The stranger knew he had no reason to be on Mr. Brandon's estate especially not when the owner was elsewhere engaged. The stranger darted off in the opposite direction and ended up near Mr. Brandon's boats. If the man got any closer to the stranger, he would have been discovered. Since the he had been in a hurry, he failed to notice that he lost his wig. He soon took shelter in a secret cave hoping that he would not be discovered.

Meanwhile, Mr. Brandon was still preoccupied at the Machias dock constructing a new ship. He would be relieved when finished for the day. Sweat poured off his brow and his clothes were soaking wet, now sticking to his back.

Lord Sandwich had finally found a solution that would benefit the British forces but would also benefit his fleet. He had recently learned that Mr. Brandon was an experienced shipbuilder although not formally trained, and that he also was a fence-sitter. When the War had started, the British Royal navy had one hundred thirty-one ships at their disposal. Now mere thirty-nine was all that remained. Lord Sandwich also knew that the British forces needed salt to preserve food, and apparently, Mr. Brandon the owner of a medium size salt plantation back in Boston, Massachusetts. If Lord Sandwich could only manage to win Mr. Brandon over, then Mr. Brandon would be the answer to his prayers!

Mr. Brandon felt his throat go dry and decided that he would allow himself to take a break. He wiped the sweat of his forehead with the arm of his shirt.

"Ah, Mr. Brandon, I presume?" Lord Sandwich's face broke into a genuine smile I've been hoping to meet you. I have a suggestion I hope that you will highly consider."

"Listen, sir, I'm currently preoccupied for several hours." The shipbuilder eyed the British Lord as he crossed his arms. ""I don't expect to finish before dawn," he continued, impatiently tapping with his foot.

"Mr. Brandon, please hear me out. It's a shame and such a waste that someone like yourself still refuses to pick a side. The British Army would benefit from having someone like you on their side." Lord Sandwich took a step closer towards Mr. Brandon.

The hardworking man sighed and looked straight into the British Lord's eyes. "With no disrespect, sir, if you think this would be the first time I'm approached with intentions of joining either side, then I must inform you that I am quite content with how things are." It was an intense and impatient look. "Please don't bother me again."

Mr. Brandon frowned, glancing around the busy tavern when he noticed Mr. Sandwich Mr. Brandon was hoping that Lord Sandwich would have accepted his answer. He was surprised to see him at the Machias' tavern. Mr. Brandon's face got stiff; he clenched his teeth and raised an eyebrow.

A red-haired boy bumped into him as he was standing near the door.

Chuckling and exclaiming, the red-haired boy suddenly stopped as he turned back towards him before running of giggling. "Sorry, sir, I didn't see you come inside!" Mr. Brandon took a look around the room, wondering if the boys' parents would be present at the tavern. Down by the corner, Mr. Brandon noticed three men heavily engaged in a heated discussion.

"Alright, sir, I'll make you a deal; if I bump into you in a different location, then I will be prepared to hear your offer." Glancing over at the boys playing soldiers in the other corner, Brandon smiled.

Lord Sandwich had been shown the places that Mr. Brandon frequented in Machias, so for him it was a done deal. But he decided not to push his luck; instead he would make sure he was at the Machias' Inn tomorrow night. Now he could afford to wait a day or two...

Mr. Brandon expected to see Lord Sandwich as he entered the Machias' Inn a few moments later. To his surprise and relief, the Lord was nowhere to be found. Mr. Brandon sighed and yawned. He was looking forward for a good night's rest. Throughout the next day Mr. Brandon didn't see the lord while he worked at Machias shipyard.

He thought about the lord's smart clothes as he worked. Mr. Brandon admitted that he had felt intimidated by the lord's smart clothes. His own clothes felt too simple beside the lord's fancy suit. He felt intimidated by the lord's fancy costume. Especially the shiny pin that was stuck on the lord's lapel.

That evening he was certain that he would see the Lord Sandwich, Mr. Brandon's instincts were correct. Right by the door, the Lord was sitting. He must have changed his clothes, Mr . Brandon thought as he could not help but notice a shiny gold pin on the breast pocket.

He admired the Lord's fancy clothes. Of course, Mr. Brandon didn't know that the gold pin was a token that Lord Sandwich's female friend had given him.

Perhaps it was his shiny pin, or the young boys' playing at the tavern, or the simple fact that his youth since long had escaped him. Lord Sandwich wasn't sure but to him it felt like something must have changed the shipbuilder's mind... Perhaps it was the simple fact of a woman. Something that was missing in Mr. Brandon's life...

If nothing else, these recent events this last couple of days has made me realize that if I die, there will be no one left to mourn me... The Brandon surname dies with me.

Yet Mr. Brandon had attempted to escape a memory too painful to remember. He had been the first that noticed the young and beautiful Miss Williams. He had soon discovered that his feelings were requited. He had boldly and naively approached Miss Williams father to make an offer for her hand in marriage...

However, since Mr. Brandon was the second son and Miss Williams in possession of a generous dowry, arrangements had already been made for Miss Williams marriage. Miss Williams married name would come to be the very same as her first love's and the young couple would later be related...

Mr. Brandon had fled from to Machias and devoted all his energy in shipbuilding instead of marriage qualms.

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Brandon, I will hold you to your promise. Now you must listen to my generous offer!" Lord Sandwich made little attempt to conceal his genuine relief.

I agreed that I would listen, yes. But that does not mean that your attempts to sway me over will succeed." Mr. Brandon sighed and wiped of the sweat with his shirt arm.

Mr. Brandon, the British force could really use someone like you. Have you considered how a position in our naval fleet would improve your chances of finding a suitable wife?" Lord Sandwich patted on his collar where the pin was placed."

"To be honest, I haven't, Lord Sandwich."Mr. Brandon raised an eyebrow then resolutely closed his mouth." Although, it is true that I have high hopes of marrying one day."

"You have a very fortunate position, Mr. Brandon." Lord Sandwich nodded and reached out his hand. "You seem to have something that the British desperately needs."

"I suppose you mean my salt plantation, Sir." Lord Sandwich nodded and reached out his hand.

"Yes, but not only that, if you can complete an order for some ships made from English oak instead of North American, I would personally offer you a position in the British Royal Navy. Imagine how your chances would improve to find a wife that you will fancy, not just marry for the sake of new alliances," Lord Sandwich quickly answered as he observed the other man's reaction.

"Unless my future sons are guaranteed a career in the British Royal Navy, I am not willing to accept your offer, Sir." Now, Mr. Brandon resolutely closed his jaw.

"Mr. Brandon, would the title 'Lieutenant Colonel' be enough to tempt you?" Lord Sandwich sighed but never wavered with his eyes." After a few years of service, we can guarantee that you will have earned the title of 'Colonel.'"

He bit his lip before he answered. "Very well, sir, please allow me some time to think before I get back to you with my decision." I may still be an eligible bachelor except for my youth and salt plantation, what do I, really have to offer any's man's daughter that could entice them to accept me as a son-in-law. In a few years my youth will long gone... Mr. Brandon thought.

Young Eliza found herself in a dilemma that occurred over four hundred miles to the South in Delaware, Levees and at the Pratt's farm. A few weeks has passed since Brandon was persuaded by Lord Sandwich. We can assume that little happened between the time of Brandon's meeting with Lord Sandwich and Willoughby's second encounter with Eliza. Neither of these events from the previous year had yet reached Delaware by January of 1775... If Eliza was a free woman, Amy's fate was still in the hands of her owner Pratt and her home was her planter's farm back in Delaware and Levees.

* * *

The Pratt's Delaware Farm was dotted with chestnut, elm, ash, pine, oak, butternut, holly, and cypress on the land. At hot summer days they provided much- needed shade.

Mr. Pratt's earned most of his income through horse breeding or the keeping of smaller salt plantation, out of his slaves twenty-five were assigned to the salt plantation while ten were engaged in the horse breeding. The last remaining ten were house workers. Amy was now one of Mr Pratt's slaves assigned for house work, she was once owned by Palmer. She would never be liberated, not even when her planter Mr. Palmer died. Mr. Palmer used to keep a workforce of exactly fifty slaves in total while five were indentured workers the rest used to work on his pine plantation. She might have had reason to complain if it would not have been for the fact that she had two daughters -Nancy and Lucy. They were her pride and joy, yet her constant worry.

It was a shame that Nancy and Lucy had been sold to different families. Nancy's new owner had been from Pennsylvania, while Lucy had been bought by the Ferrars family from New York. Lucy was later inherited to Fanny Dashwood on her marriage to Mr. Dashwood's son from the Ferrars family as a wedding gift.

She was standing in the corner with the hand over her mouth, trying to conceal the fact that she no longer could keep her food down. "Mr. Xanders, is Lucy and Nancy's planter goin' to sell them?"

Amy knew she was not supposed to bother her owner or the overseer Mr. Xanders -not unless he asked her first. Yet Amy was a mother, and she had heard from Eliza that her daughters' owners might consider selling them. That worried her, and as a mother she had to know what would happen to her daughters. After John Dashwood's marriage to Fanny Ferrars, Nancy and Lucy were both owned by the Dashwood's from Pennsylvania. Out of her three children so far, it had been a relief for Amy that her two daughters eventually were reunited with Dashwood's second marriage.

Mr. Xanders fixed his eyes upon Amy,"Amy, whether or not it is true, you should know Mr. Pratt no longer can influence the Dashwood's. Besides, as I am sure that you remember your oldest daughter was sold five years ago and your second three years ago. You should know that all your children will be sold at the age of five."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Xanders." Instinctively, she placed her hands over her stomach. "Don't ya' know if it's true or false?"

Mr. Xanders spoke angrily as his face turned red with irritation." Please, Amy, I haven't seen you this worried for any of your younger children."

"Oh, please, Mr. Xanders, have mercy on my younger ones!" Amy fell to her knees when she noticed how her overseer had reacted. "I thought Mr . Pratt would have understood, seeing that he is a parent as well."

"Amy, it seems you must have forgotten your place." Xanders wrinkled his forehead before he spoke. "Did you suddenly forget that you are not expected to speak unless spoken to?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Xanders I'm worried for ma' girls." Amy reached forward and clung to Mr. Xander's left leg.

"Amy, I advise you to stop speaking -unless you want me to punish you for your mistake?" Mr. Xanders was forced to kick his left leg before Amy's arms loosened, and she fell face forward on the ground inside the stable." Besides, think! You should try to worry for the children you have left."

Amy knew she would have to let her overseer know she was expecting another child. If she didn't, she knew she would be punished and maybe lose her unborn child.

"Why he do this to me!?

Why he deny' he wants me in his bed..." She was still kneeling on the floor, tears run down her cheeks," Ma' Nancy out' to be his." Amy was convinced that Nancy had been fathered by Mr Pratt, while all her younger children had a more uncertain paternity.

Mr. Xanders hurried off out of the stable, his suspicions confirmed. He couldn't believe what he just heard and witnessed; he shook his head in disbelief.

"Mr. Pratt, I have something of importance that I believe I need, to report back to you." She was still kneeling on the floor, tears run down her cheeks.

"Very well, Mr. Xanders, what is it concerning?" Resuming folding his paper, he took of his spectacles.

Looking around worriedly as he waited for Mr. Pratt to offer him to sit. "It concerns one of your female house workers, sir." He quickly closed the door behind him, swallowed hard and closed his eyes.

"Mr. Xanders please." Mr. Pratt motioned towards a chair. Pratt was known to be difficult to too please, there were few if any people that he considered as his equals. He usually treated his workers the same intimating way-be it free men, indentured worker or slaves. He disciplined his workforce by using corporal punishments and physical abuse.

He spoke with some hesitation, since he did not want to be the bringer of bad news. "Well, eh...We may have a problem in Palmer's Amy, sir." The overseer soon sat down on the chair.

"Now, Mr. Xanders, what makes you say that?" he asked curiously, as he took off his spectacles and looked directly at his overseer.

Fortunately, sir it seems that Amy already may be expecting." Mr. Xanders wet his lips and grabbed his hat tightly.

Mr. Pratt leaned in over his desk awaiting his overseer's explanation or excuse. "Oh, really? Didn't she give birth three years ago to another daughter? Her fourth, I believe. She has proven to be very fertile but it would please me even more if she managed to conceive multiples. Twins would be a welcome addition while I would be overjoyed of the prospects of triplets. Either would benefit my finances and trades significantly."

Mr. Pratt was worried about how he ever would manage to keep track of his growing workforce. Back in the Province of New York, John Dashwood, or more so his wife Fanny would have given almost anything to have as many slaves and workers as they had at the Pratt's farm.

* * *

Fanny, John's wife, was eager to see him join the same side as her family. If her husband would accept to support the Loyalists instead of being a fence-sitter like his father- or worse, actively supporting the Patriots, Fanny knew that the future for her only son would be uncertain. Since John would inherit his father's estate he kept both servants and indentured workers for domestic chores. Nancy or Lucy had joined the workforce after John's marriage to the Ferrars only daughter.

Both the Delaware River and the Hudson Canal were noticed from the Dashwood's modest home. The house was surrounded by many birch, maple, aspen, oak, pine, spruce, and ash trees.

The high-pitched upset voice of Mrs. Dashwood got closer. Suddenly the door was flung open and Fanny had to stop to catch her breath.

"Please, John, I can no longer hold my tongue! Forgive me, dearest, if I were in your shoes, I would seriously consider General Gage's offer of future protection of the Norland Plantation. What future do you wish upon our son!?" Fanny Dashwood exclaimed in horror as the family was gathering for breakfast.

It had been a long struggle for the Ferrars to accept John's offer for their only daughter. Fanny's parents was had not been pleased that their daughter was being pursued and courted by the son of a British colonist. John had been relentless and resilient; he had continued to repeat his offer of marriage five times. One for every year before the Ferrars family finally gave in.

Yet,even if the marriage had been what John had wanted, he presumed it would come with a prize. It was assumed that he had been persuaded to switch sides to the British Loyalists since Fanny was the daughter of one. Albeit, he was still his father's son, with difficulty had he managed to keep his alliance to the Sons of Liberty a secret. In public, John always knew he was expected to side with his wife, which he had learned to do over the years. Whenever he sided with his father, his wife refused to let him inside her chamber, either locking the door with the chamber maid's key or retiring long after her husband.

He lifted his eyes and smiled. "Fanny, I realize that it would be beneficial to our Harry if Norland was promised Loyalist protection. Yet, it still bothers me that we must use a significant amount of our own money to pay taxes to the Crown," John wiped his mouth in haste with his handkerchief.

"Dearest, please don't tell me you contemplate joining the Patriots? I know I am a woman that should know my place. But as your wife, I cannot stand idly by."

Fanny began to almost shout in desperation. She forgot to let the porridge cool before she took it to her lips.

* * *

 _Some weeks later at the Norland Plantation middle of March 1775._

The resilient Schuylkill River with its persistent and soothing, and times persisting sound could be heard from the Norland Plantation.

To his relief, Henry was able to experience his second daughter's first assembly.

"Father, I do hope, that I shall get asked for as many dances as our Elinor," Marianne addressed her father with her usual eagerness, always followed by a smile.

"I would not worry too much about that, are you not a Dashwood, dear?" Surprised, the father looked up from behind his monocle. He placed his hand on top his daughter's.

"If anything, I can guarantee that you will be asked for as many dances as I was." Elinor drew her lips together and sighed." If not more, I know what they say; I inherited the English Middleton beauty whereas you are more exotic."

"Elinor you really think so?" Marianne, the younger daughter turned her head and smiled towards her sister.

"Do you think a man would choose an English rose if he was given the option of a violet?" Elinor, the eldest daughter, nodded discreetly and looked at her father.

* * *

 _A little later that same evening, at Marianne's first cotillion..._

"Miss Dashwood, please let me express my gratitude towards you and your father. By extension, we are family so I was not certain if I was to be invited to your sister's first assembly." Edward bowed and placed a kiss on Elinor's gloved hand. He smiled nervously towards Miss Dashwood before he took her hand and lead her out onto the dancefloor.

Effortlessly, Elinor placed her hand in his and returned his awkward smile."Mr. Ferrars, why should the two of us bicker when no conflict exists between us?" For a brief second she blushed, as she curtsied.

Edward's posture changed as he was able to relax and even to the point that he begun to enjoy it.

"Miss Dashwood, if I may please allow me to compliment the color of your dress; this pink and blue striped dress was an excellent choice since it really does your beauty justice." He looked deep into her blue bright eyes. As Elinor curtsied when their dance was over, Mr. Middleton soon took his chance. That left Edward all alone. He sighed as he realized that he needed to find a new dance partner.

The two sisters could not have looked more different, they were each other's opposites. Marianne resembled their father-with her darker complexion, brown eyes and dark hair, while Elinor took after their mother with her light complexion, bright blue eyes and golden hair.

"Miss Dashwood, perhaps you still are unaware that the Middleton's only marry cousins."

Twirling her around the room, Sir John's son Mr. Middleton smiled." This means I am expected to marry either you or your sweet younger sister."

"I hope you will forgive me for my unfortunate mistake? Sir John's guest requested, glancing discreetly, back at Marianne.

"I was fooled by your younger sister's statuesque height to think she was the elder of you two."

Marianne had been unable to sleep for an entire week leading up to her first assembly. It was exciting for her. She had longed for her own assembly and cotillion since she was twelve years old. Unlike Elinor, Marianne enjoyed dancing for years. She had only been allowed to sing while practicing the pianoforte. She had just turned fifteen and she had been looking forward to her first assembly and cotillion from the day she turned fourteen. She hoped she would get as many dances as her older sister would.

After dancing six dances, two with Sir John, two with his son, and the last two with Edward, Elinor was happy to see Edward dancing with her younger sister.

Edward, now attempting to break the awkward silence between the two of them as he escorted her out on the dancefloor. "Miss Marianne, will you allow me to extend a compliment for this evening's attire?" She knew that her mother and Elinor thought very highly of the Ferrars brothers' and especially of Edward. Therefore, she only nodded in response.

Edward noticed how Elinor soon began to speak to Sir John's middle-aged guest. Even though Elinor had managed to dance the two required dances. Edward had still only danced two-one with Miss Dashwood and one with her younger sister. He started to feel nervous and sweat soon appeared upon his forehead.

He stuttered and stammered as he did his best to conceal his nervousness towards Miss Jennings. Now standing opposite Miss Jennings,"I wonder if I may be so bold to request this dance with you?" Nervously Edward stroke his hair. His face lit up into a smile.

"Mr. Ferrars, I thought you already were spoken for." She curtsied and offered a slight nod.

He sighed and gave a modest smile. Hopefully, there would still be at least one lady that would accept a dance with him. Besides, Miss Dashwood and Miss Marianne whom he considered family.

"Miss Pratt, I wonder if I could have this dance?" He bowed and placed a kiss on Miss Pratt's glowed hand.

"Unfortunately Mr. Ferrars although it would be my pleasure, I am afraid I must decline. My father is hoping that I marry another Colonist." He bowed and placed a kiss on Miss Pratt's glowed hand.

Edward, please remember that we may be related to the Dashwood's now through Fanny's marriage to Mr. Dashwood's son. You are of course expected to dance with them both, as are Robert. Those dances may be mandatory, try to get at least one of the Middleton daughters' to notice you.

He gave a nervous smile as he remembered his mother's reprimand, "Miss Middleton, would you like to give me this dance?"

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Ferrars. I have already promised someone else all my dances." Her answer to Edward came shortly.

Edward was a gentleman, although he had looked forward to his mandatory dance with Elinor's younger sister Marianne. He felt relieved when their dance was interrupted by a gentle knock on his right shoulder.

* * *

Mr. Brandon attempted to conceal his not so indiscreet glances at the young lady at Edward's side. "Mr. Ferrars, if I may be so bold to request all of Miss Marianne's remaining dances?"

Edward lost his grip of Marianne and for a brief moment, as the dance was interrupted with an odd look on his face. It was not appropriate and certainly spoke of bad manners if a gentleman interrupted another man's dance.

"Well, Mr. Brandon, I will disregard the fact that you just made a scene at Miss Marianne's first assembly. Especially since you are a guest of Sir John Middleton, but I really think you should apologize to the Dashwood's." He looked apologetically at Marianne and sighed.

Marianne was disappointed to see there seemed to be very few eligible young and handsome men present at her first assembly. Mr. Brandon, the guest of Sir John, would probably have been a very dashing man ten years ago. For some reason, Mr. Brandon insisted on requesting all of her remaining dances. Marianne hoped Mr. Brandon would abandon her for her sister since she found the older man dull.

"Miss Marianne, it is a pleasure to dance with you tonight!" Mr. Brandon exclaimed with the biggest grin on his face. He led Marianne graciously around the room, and reluctantly, she had to confess that Mr. Brandon was very talented at ballroom dancing.

He leaned in further and whispered in her ear.

"I cannot believe you and Miss Dashwood are full sisters. Of course, you both are very you seem to be each other's polar opposites, while Miss Dashwood's blue eyes, blonde hair and light complexion is the epitome of a true English beauty, I confess I personally find you more captivating with your deep dark eyes, dark curly hair and olive complexion. The red and yellow in your frock really compliments your beauty. Yet I doubt the color of your dress would bring your sister's beauty out as it does yours."

The owner of Norland and the head of the Dashwood family was still oblivious that his son was one of the men responsible for the dumping of the tea. Perhaps the father would have supported the actions of his only heir if he had known. Instead, the worries for the older man remained to be the future of his plantation. Since he was remarried his other constant worries were to see his three daughters' securing eligible men that preferably were English and either fence-sitters or Colonists.

Perhaps John's real opinion of the Middleton's was one he never shared. Out of respect for his second wife's family, he felt obliged to be polite and courteous. Rumors did not travel far or fast in those days. Even though it now was April, the Middleton family was unaware of the involvement that their cousin's stepson had in the Intolerable Acts...

* * *

The Barton Plantation was considered one of the grandest. With a total of two hundred workers, one hundred were indentured servants and the rest were slaves. The Middleton family was considered to be one of the richest families, and therefore, the most powerful English families, not only within South Carolina, but in all of the English colonies. Middleton had brought over fifty indentured workers and fifty slaves. He had gained another fifty from his marriage to his noble English wife. He had been able to buy the other hundred due the success of his rice cultivation.

Louis was one of their one hundred indentured slaves who were assigned to work at the rice field. It was a very strenuous and exhausting chore that seemed like a never-ending task especially since the planter at the Barton Plantation was considered very cruel. He expected the workers on the rice fields to begin their chores at dawn and not stop before after dusk. Even though the regular overseer was a decent man in the slave's eyes, the situation worsened when Sir John Middleton's second son begun to make regular appearances unannounced and was no stranger to using a bullwhip to discipline or punish his father's workers.

He was dressed in his usual trousers, shirt and waistcoat and Monmouth cap. He was lacking shoes, as one of Sir John's slaves he had not earned the right to wear shoes...

Louis was brought to South Carolina five years ago to Sir Middleton. Ever since that day, he had thought about escaping from his cruel planter's strict routines. He had slowly begun to form a plan of escape. Very soon now he would be able to make his first escape attempt... What significance did the nature have on his life when all that was important was a chance at freedom? Not that he could not appreciate the wonders of the South Carolinian nature, or the beauty of the Carolina Bays, the Edisto River, the Raven Cliff Hills, the Healing Springs, the Sandhills or the Angel Oak of Saint John's Island...


	4. Interlude at Lexington

Escaping the infamous Barton rice plantation had not been an easy task. The first week Louis slept during daylight while wandering from dusk to dawn. He whistled as he walked on the dirt road, carelessly kicking at gravel with his rundown boots. He had not been able to walk as far as he had hoped; he estimated that he was still in South Carolina.

Louis bold escape from his planter Middleton meant he was not a liberated slave - which in turn meant he was unable to take his planter's surname. This way, his escape might not be noticed since he was unable to present himself as Louis Middleton.

Now he was seemingly out of breath. The oak trees and the river birches provided some cool shade as he passed through the Carolina state he was able to feed his hunger by the occasional honey locust, black cherry, and red mulberry that he passed along the way.

He refused to stay and pretend to be content with life; he knew it was dangerous to try to defy what seemed to be his destiny. Yet he wanted more out of life, his mother once told him that he was a restless soul and that she worried for his future.

I know I may end up losing my life if Sir John Middleton discovers this, but I refuse to accept my chores.

Louis was anxious, hoping his escape wouldn't be discovered for another week or so, at least not until he had managed to get himself to the Province of North Carolina. It had only been a few hours into the second week of his escape and with so many workers and slaves there, it was likely his absence wouldn't be discovered knew his dear mama fortunately hadn't experienced slavery when she was alive. So why would he have to accept lifelong slavery or servitude? He was a proud young man, maybe too proud for his own good. He also happened to have a short temper, and he had attempted to run away from his cruel owner Middleton many times.

Even though it looked like he finally had succeeded in his task, he knew he had to be careful. _He should never tell anyone his real name or his previous whereabouts. He was walking; once in a while he stopped and looked over his shoulder. Fearing someone would catch up to him. As he walked, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. He feared someone was already in pursuit of him in order to capture him and bring him back to Sir John._

 _All Louis wanted was to start anew. He dreamed of a life as a free man or at least with a master that was not as cruel as Sir John._

He got a familiar premonition that his escape would come to an abrupt end as he imagined the uncanny sound of galloping horses. Moments later, the all too familiar sound of Barton's owner's voice was heard. Now he realized his first escape attempt had been discovered. He didn't dare to face his planter, turning his eyes down towards his feet.

Sir John must have discovered he was missing and set out to find him it Barton's owner must have come from his Barton Plantation in the north part of South Carolina.

"Louis! I demand to know what you think you are doing! Sir John's voice was harsh and loud, perhaps a bit too loud. "Have I not treated you well at Barton? Of course, I know I never have encouraged a male slave to take advantage of one of my female slaves. But I have never condoned it, have I?"

He had thought he had been too cautious and strict towards his workers, and he always feared that one of his workers would be brave enough to try to run away. John would have expected that from any other worker, but certainly not Louis. Over the years Louis had earned his trust. Unless you got a glance at Sir John's eyes, nothing told that he was feeling hurt.

Louis felt his cheeks burn— he was discovered. "No, sir, you haven't."

Sir John looked straight at his disobedient worker, without turning away or as much as blinking. "I thought you liked working for me and living at Barton. I have been deceived and betrayed by you. I have suspected many of my slaves to try to run away, but never you Louis, never you."

Louis closed his eyes, swallowed hard. "I understand, sir", he whispered…

Sir John shook his head in disbelief, looking straight down at Louis from his horse. This leaves me with two choices: either take you back, or try to sell you on to someone else. You have served me well for fifteen years."

Sir John was much displeased with Louis; he decided it was better for him if he found Louis a new owner. That's how Louis became a slave in the Jennings household.

"Louis, I have never owned a more obnoxious slave before you, hopefully I never will again. I am relieved that I managed to capture you, but I will not tolerate any misdemeanor. Louis, meet Mr. Jennings. He has agreed to buy you and take you off my hands. Once I leave Louis, your future lies in the hand of Mr. Jennings. "

The silent older man, who had only observed the situation from his horse, began speaking as Sir John motioned in his direction. "Louis, I hear that your previous owner had some trouble with you. I want you to know that I will not tolerate any disobedience on your part. I much rather sell you than have to discipline and punish you."

Up until now Louis thought the worst that could happen was that he would be taken back to Barton. Instead, it seemed as if his future now lay in the hands of Mr Jennings. He now feared his future would be worse, but he did not regret his bold escape attempt, at least not yet. The Jennings used to only keep indentured workers on their corn farm while also getting temporary help from rented workers from nearby farms. The exception would be Middleton's slave. Their workforce was a total of seventy-five. As Louis' future now would be at the Jennings, Charlotte homestead Mrs. Dashwood struggled with the abrupt farewell from Mr. Dashwood. At the family plantation back in Pennsylvania Philadelphia...

* * *

Mr. Dashwood had been gone from Norland for some time now, yet Mrs. Dashwood didn't like that she was left without her husband or any male protection. Of course Norland still had their male servants and slaves, but they were of little comfort to her. She was vulnerable not only because she was left without her husband, but also because of her three daughters: Elinor, Marianne and Margaret.

Elinor sighed and began to smooth her mother's back. "Mama, if it is any consolation we will continue having father with us for many years to come. Or at least until Marianne has married and Margaret had her first cotillion. It would be much unfortunate if father was called now…"

She knew some people already considered her a spinster, Sir John's guest Mr. Brandon had given her renewed hope. Of course she thought he was a little rough and appeared to have no manners. What can you really expect from a man whose been living as a bachelor for ten years!? If Mr. Dashwood hoped that Mr. Brandon would fancy out of his two daughters' enough to marry her ,she hoped Mr. Brandon would ask her and not Marianne.

"I do think it is rather romantic—don't you think so, Elinor? Of course, I don't like the fact that Father must leave us. Mama, why must Father leave us? Can't the Massachusetts militia defend themselves without Father?" the second daughter exclaimed. She drew a deep sigh.

"I think the conflict is exciting, I wish I was able to join father in this fight. I wish I could join the Massachusetts militia or at least the Continental Army." Patiently, the youngest waited for her turn to speak.

"Would you not much rather marry a soldier instead, dear?" Marianne made no attempts to conceal the big surprise her younger sister's words had caused.

"Margaret dear, do not talk such nonsense, you know very well that only men are able to pick up arms. Marianne, please do not continue to support our sister's ideas with your romantic fantasies." Exchanging a displeasing look, the eldest daughter sighed.

Mrs. Dashwood put on a brave front in front of the servants, although she was a mother, and as such she now was honestly concerned for the future of her three young daughters. Conversely, she understood her husband, and as his wife, she supported his decision.

"Now, my dears let us not talk about the nearing war in front of Margaret!" The mother said in a slightly higher tone of voice.

Mrs. Dashwood also worried greatly about what would happen to her husband's estate as well the servants and slaves. She hoped her husband's older son would be able to take over the plantation without altering too much of what she knew. She worried that her husband gave his son the benefit of the doubt, and she wished she could do the same. Yet her stepson's wife had been a constant worry for Annie. Somehow she sensed that John's opinions and motivations had changed with his marriage.

She knew that Mr. Dashwood had written in his will that Nancy and Lucy should be liberated if he passed away. Now the problem was that Nancy had been bought into the Dashwood's as one of the Ferrars' first slaves, while Lucy had joined the workforce as a gift from Sir John Middleton to his first cousin Ellen. Therefore, it would only be possible to try to liberate Nancy. It was a shame, since Nancy and Lucy were sisters and shared the same mother. Laughter was pouring out from an open window in the parlor where Mrs. Dashwood had been sitting with her daughters. The sisters were unable to hear exactly what had been said as they sat outside on the stone porch hearing laughter from an open window. The two sisters took the expected departure by their planter very hard. It was fortunate for them that planter's wife and daughters treated all their workers the same. They were allowed to take breaks whenever they wanted. The two sisters had struggled with their assigned chores under the heat from gazing sun, now they were sitting on the Norland porch.

* * *

A gust of air made all the branches with their leaves nearby— black birches, beeches, oak and ashes rustle slightly.

"At least we are together, Lucy." Nancy looked down towards her sister and reached for her hand. "Be grateful for the time we got to spend with the Dashwood's."

"At least you stand a chance at liberation, Nancy." Attempting to conceal her jealousy, Lucy, the younger woman, sighed.

Yes and that's of little comfort to me when I know you never will." While smiling, Nancy, the older sister began to stroke her sister's hand resting a top her dirty and wrinkled petticoat..."

"Don't you worry 'bout me, I'll be just fine as long as I get to stay here at Norland and the Dashwood's." The younger of the two closed her eyes to try to blink her tears away.

The older woman knew her younger sister relied on her; she too was worried for their future. Yet she had promised their mother to always protect her younger sister, which she had been doing ever since they realized they had been assigned to the same family. Nancy didn't want to worry her sister so she decided to try taking her mind off their uncertain future. She began thinking about their mutual friend Eliza Williams. Unlike the two sisters' Eliza had been spared a life of slavery and servitude.

With a sigh the younger sister whispered. "I certainly don't envy Eliza." Of course, both of them knew it was a lie. Just as their mother they wanted a life as a liberated Black woman. Even if their life wouldn't improve, they would at least be able to marry without asking for their planter's consent.

"Planter has a legitimate son in John from his first marriage. He is destined to take over since he is the only male heir." Reassuringly, the younger sister did her best; she had at least not forgotten that planter had an older son.

As long as nothing happens to him, I think we can be safe." She knew the words he said were words she didn't believe in, yet they seemed appropriate. The older sister nodded in silent agreement.

The younger sister always managed to be around for gossip and rumors. "I wouldn't be so certain if I were you. Mrs. Dashwood often says that after John's marriage, he has become a changed man." Somehow, she managed to remember every one of them, while she failed miserably at trying to remember the simplest task or instruction.

The older sister knew that Planter's second wife trusted that her stepson would share his father's opinions as well as future plans for the plantation. Nancy trusted planter's current wife, therefore she was not worried. "Perhaps, but John is still planter's son and planter has always been good to us." Both the sisters' prayed their planter would return back to his beloved Norland at almost eight hundred miles distance from the British troops...She got up and carefully brushed of the dairt from her dirty but unwrinkled petticoat.

* * *

On 18th of April 1775 ,some members of the Sons of Liberty has gathered to assess the current situation.

Witnessing British troop movements, Joseph Warren asks Paul Revere to bring the news to Samuel Adams and John Hancock in Lexington. Paul Revere crosses through the Mystic River on his way to Menotomy. They have been told they need to report back to Mr Dashwood who happened that arrived to offer his aid.

Meanwhile, at a safe distance of nearly one thousand miles a middle-aged man spent most of his days reminiscing about his youth, even though the man appeared too oblivious of the fact that the situation between the British and the Colonists had escalated ever since the Dumping of Tea. He had his reasons for concern, just as he had his reasons for concealing them... He was ashamed that he was able to live fairly comfortably in the New Hampshire Grants, knowing all too well he had chosen to flee instead of fight.

The door to the tavern sprang open, by an unfamiliar man. Without hesitation, the New England youth approached the owner while struggling to catch his breath. "Sir, please give me some work. I've just come from Boston, Massachusetts. I'm glad I managed to get away when I did."

Preoccupied with pouring the stranger a beer, the bartender mumbled, "Oh, really, is it that bad?"

Looking carefully around the tavern at the people nearest him, the stranger burst out, "Haven't you heard, sir? The British and the colonists both want to claim the town." Looking carefully around the tavern at the people nearest him, the stranger burst out.

"I suppose you don't know if there has been any bloodshed?" The bartender put down the tankard of beer in front of the stranger.

"Well, not besides the Boston massacre." The younger man took a large sip of beer and wiped the foam from his mouth with his sleeve.

William, now forty years old, thought back to that dreadful day ten years ago. Since he was the oldest, he was arranged to marry for money. To a woman that he never loved. He was a loyal son and had agreed to the marriage, even though he knew his brother was devastated to see his first love married to someone else, that was a betrayal hard enough to take. To see the woman that he loved, married to his older brother. That had caused a rift between the brothers and they hadn't spoken or seen each other since.

The wedding day was horrible. Beth cried and wept, so much so that William had decided he couldn't continue on with the charade. Perhaps he could have loved her, if she hadn't given her heart to someone else.

 _William hesitated at the thought of actually trying to return to Boston..._

Mr. Brandon's older prodigal brother decides that he must go to Boston, Massachusetts and aid his younger brother. Once again, Mr. William Brandon found himself in a tavern trying to bury the sorrow of losing his wife, five years ago now.

Beth had died from falling down the staircase, from an altercation with her husband.

William eventually confessed to never having loved Beth Williams, but to him she was the only woman that he ever felt was worthy enough to be his bride. At the time of his marriage, William seemed oblivious to the fact that the seventeen-year-old Beth seemed to have formed an attachment with his younger brother, John Brandon.

The marriage between William and Beth was a happy occasion and he was elated to have found himself a wife. Yet the marriage between William and Beth soon caused a grudge John was jealous of his brother for marrying the woman that he loved while William soon had realized that Beth may be his wife, but her heart belonged to John.

It was most unfortunate that Beth had died on their first wedding day, the loss and wound of his young wife made William desert his home. He took up gambling and drinking, but he had refused to see his younger brother John. Last time the two brother's spoke was on the day of William's wedding day.

 _Maybe it was time for William to make amends with his younger brother? He admitted that he worried about his brother, but he still didn't feel like he was ready to return. Even if the person that they both desired no longer was alive. That was before Beth was taken and William became a remorseful, mourning widower a year later._

"Tell me good sir, how is the situation up in Massachusetts, Boston?" William tended to be as reserved as his younger brother yet he knew this might be his only chance to learn what the situation was like in Boston. That would help him to decide if he would have a valid reason to return.

"Excuse me, but for what reason do you want to know?" The New England native turned in the direction of the voice, as he did he raised an eyebrow.

"I happen to have family up there." William sighed and shook his shoulders as he gave a remorseful smile.

"Well, I think it may develop into something soon, but nothing has happened just yet." The New England resident locked eyes with William as he took another sip of beer.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the men at the tavern in New Hampshire Grants, the existing tension between the British and the colonists, would soon escalate. The battle of Lexington had just begun at a distance of fifty five miles. Ever since the Intolerable Acts in Boston the situation between the British and the Colonists had been manageable, but on the night of the 18th of April the situation would soon intensify.

Outside hiding in the forest —full of birch, maple, aspen, oak, pine, spruce, and ash was none other than Sir John Middleton— who had been given secret orders to capture and destroy rebel military supplies reportedly stored by the Massachusetts' militia at Concord. Meanwhile, Mr. Jennings and supporters of the colonists had already learned of the British troops orders and of a certain Mr. Dashwood. The first shot at Lexington was fired at early dusk and neither side claimed responsibility for the bullet that left Mr. Dashwood with severe injuries-that might prove lethal. Suddenly the militia men were outnumbered and forced into retreat, as the regular men with Mr. Pratt was convinced to turn to Concord. The first casualty was found on the Colonists side and it would give the Loyalists a significant advantage since it would seem as if the Loyalists had won that battle, yet it was not certain they would manage to come out as victors.

* * *

As the first encounter between the British and the Massachusetts men had nearly just begun, a British man had set an clandestine meeting with a woman. Even though both sides had passed through the Boston tavern neither of them was concerned about the near surrounding... The sound of the Connecticut River was almost not noticed...

Impatiently, Willoughby stood outside the inn, waiting for Eliza to appear. He began to grow more irritated as he begun to fear that the sweet Eliza would not keep her promise. She finally arrived, seemingly out of breath. He smiled when he saw her.

"You came; I was worried that you were elsewhere engaged or maybe that you turned me down."

 _He walked toward her, his steps rushed. He feared someone might discover them; an English gentleman and a Mulatto girl. Even though he was far away from New Hampshire, he was still concerned someone would recognize him from the Intolerable Acts. Taking her arm in his, he led her into the Boston docks. The woman appeared to grow nervous._

"Oh, no sir, I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing to you," she said and looked down, kicking some gravel with her foot and hiding her hands behind her back.

 _He knew she was a very handsome young woman, but until now he had not been able to take a good look at her. Now he noticed that her silhouette was tall and slim, her waist tiny and her bosom big. His heartbeat became faster more rapid and he felt a desire awake in his chest. He knew he simply had to have her for himself. He sighed for a second and licked his lips. In the light of the dawn she was even more attractive to him. The dark hair even more shiny and her eyes more glimmering and dark._

Now, Willoughby could tell just how handsome she really was, if he had been the marrying type, she would already have been his wife even if she was a Mulatto.

"And you are absolutely certain that you were not followed on the way here?" he asked, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone could have followed the young woman.

"No, sir, I don't think so," she said with hesitation.

"Well, I am satisfied with that answer," he said and smiled.

* * *

 _She became aware of how morally improper their behavior was. At first she tried to pull away and turned her head so that his lips would miss her lips. What would have been their first kiss became a disappointment to the man, while it was a relief for the young woman._

He took another last look and quickly placed his lips over hers. She had told herself she wouldn't allow herself to respond to his kiss. But alas, she found herself helpless, unable to resist him. _Once his lips were pressed against hers she knew it just as well as him. He had succeeded in winning her over. Without thinking, she answered the man's kiss._

She closed her eyes as their lips met; as soon as the man sighed, she immediately opened her eyes and tried to pull away. But the young woman was helpless and unable to resist the man's advances. She didn't initiate the kiss that would have been wrong. Instead she unconsciously opened her mouth slightly and answered the first kiss.

"But sir, I wasn't expecting that. Not when I still don't know your name," she said and moaned as she leaned back against one of the ships.

"Forgive me my manner's, the name is Willoughby," he said and smiled as he bowed and lifted off his hat.

"I really shouldn't have agreed to see you." She bit her lip, looking around the dock.

He moved closer towards the young woman, he was so close now that he could feel her anxious heartbeat. He gently, began to stroke the woman's hair.

"Your words hurt me, Eliza; I love you! You trust me now, don't you?" He asked, surprised, and stopped stroking the young woman's hair.

The young woman bit her lip again before she answered.

"I suppose," she whispered.

"Eliza, my love, if you don't believe my words allow me to show you just how much I love you. I promise, I'll be gentle."

"But what if someone happens to walk by..."

 _He had waited long enough now; he pressed his lips against the young woman's to silence her voice. He leaned over her, one hand placed on the wall to keep his balance. Their torsos were pressed against each other. He had eagerness and wanting in his eyes. She sighed and looked up straight into the man's green eyes and nodded slightly. The man began thumbing on her buttons. Even though he knew he had managed to conquer her, his hands were shaky._

Eliza sighed into the kiss, responding to Willoughby's advances and burying her hands in his hair.

It was like a fairy-tale, she thought as his hands fumbled with her petticoat, and she was the fairy princess who had finally found a prince to love. '

Eliza could no longer feel the man's strong hands fumbling with her skirts instead the man's advances and attention was preoccupied with the buttons of her shirt. She looked into his eyes hoping that he wouldn't notice how nervous she was—or for that matter, her loud heartbeat. As two secret lovers were currently preoccupied two other lovers would soon see each other.. _. She had almost forgot Brandon's words of warning since Willoughby seemed to be a man that she could trust. Had he not chosen her, before all other women ...?_ She knew she wasn't like any of the other women—Nancy and Lucy may have been her friends, but they were not born to a previously freed women like knew she was born free, she had never experienced corporal punishment nor physical abuse. _She had no planter and she was not owned by anyone. Above all she was born with a surname—a surname that her mother chose for her. She had always carried herself proud—even had the habit of sticking her nose up in the air._


	5. Ante Concord

Eliza had refused to accept that Willoughby's promise and love was worth just as a much as a drop of rain.

 _Why else would he insist of seeing her alone? As she was deserted, it dawned upon her that Willoughby's seemed to have ulterior motives. He had robbed her of her virtue, as she realized she was a ruined woman, she felt her heart break into pieces. All she wanted to do was cry, yet she calmed herself as she refused to cry in public. She had trusted him enough to let him bed her, assuming that he soon would ask for her hand in marriage. She would only allow herself to cry once she was back at Delaford. All Eliza wanted to do right now, was to forget the night had ever happened._

At dusk, she opened her eyes and found the opposite side of the bed deserted. The bedding in a total mess. The British gentleman had persuaded her to share his bed. Now he was nowhere to be found. Eliza quickly wrapped herself in a blanket.

A few hours earlier, Willoughby had brought Eliza to the same inn as they had agreed to meet at. They had shared a bed for the night.

Mr. Willoughby had managed to reach the New Hampshire border. He had neglected his family back in New Jersey for too long, so he dared not return home. His parents always insisted that he would help them with the flour production of their mill. If he did, he was expected to join their workforce of fifty indentured workers and up to thirty temporary workers. Willoughby was blissfully unaware of the consequences his tryst would have. Just as the escalating conflict between the British and the Colonists escaped his notice , he did not know that the conflict had moved on to Concord. He despised every situation or occasion that postponed an assembly or a cotillion. Willoughby thrived in an environment where he could show off his elegant dancing and be surrounded by beautiful young women.

The indecisive Loyalist supporter had already been severely injured in Concord, and for Mr. Dashwood, who was hit by the first shot, things did not look so bright. As Henry realized his time had come as pain the wound inflicted began to intensify in strength. He instinctively reached out and pressed his hand on the open wound in an attempt to prevent blood loose.

Henry Dashwood knew his family and his son would be able to survive, and go on without him. After all, his only son and destined heir John would soon turn thirty. They did not need him around any longer; he knew he had been living on borrowed time even when he first married his second wife Marianne. In his death, Henry Dashwood would finally be reunited with his first wife Ellen. Even though Annie—his second wife and now widow—was certain to mourn his loss, he only wanted to see her happy and looked after. He had often reminded her that she should remarry once he was deceased, since he was convinced he would die before his second him, Annie had been more than just his wife; she had been his confidant, adviser, emotional supporter and even the love of his life.

By now, Mr. Dashwood could only hope that his son John still remembered the values he was raised in so the future for his beloved Norland would be less uncertain...

* * *

Meanwhile, at their headquarters in Boston, Graves was at the center of the Revolutionary mayhem in New England. His sailors worked the boats that ferried British soldiers across the Charles River on route to Concord on the night of April 18th.

There was a column of militia. Mr. Jennings and the others paraded down the road toward Lexington to meet the British until they met the approaching support of soldiers. As the combatants numbered about seven hundred, there were about a third of the strength of the regulars, the militia column decided to return back into Concord. The militia withdrew to a ridge overlooking the town, and their officers conferred over what to do next. Colonel James Barrett withdrew from the town of Concord while leading the men over the North Bridge to a hill near Concord, where they were able to continue to observe the troop movements of the British and activities in the center of town.

As the ranks of the militia continued to grow, Minuteman companies arriving from the western towns joined them. The British troops arrived in the village of Concord and lieutenant Col Smith forwarded Gage's orders to further divide his men. Gage's orders were to capture colonial powder and arms.

When the British troops arrived in the village of Concord Lt. Col Smith divided the troops by General Gage's orders. Those men who declared loyalty towards the British were Sir John Middleton, Mr. Pratt, Mr. Grey and Willoughby's father, James Willoughby. Mr. James Willoughby was a devoted British loyalist, while his only son refused to side with the British. John Willoughby was therefore a fence-sitter that occasionally sided with with either side. The British Army consisted of General Gage and Captain Laurie and their men, —they were leading the British Army forward to Concord.

"Sir John Middleton, I have a special order for you," exclaimed Gage in an imperious voice, pointing straight at Sir John. Gage tried not to show any signs of worry towards his the men under his command. But it did worry General Gage, more than he allowed himself to show.

"Very well, Gage, your order shall be done." Smiling secretly, he nodded that he understood. Sir John, thought it was peculiar that General Gage managed to remain as calm and collected as he did. His voice sounded authoritative [and proud and he was positive enough to offer an occasional smile. That worried Sir John at first.

"Third Lieutenant Grey and Lieutenant Colonel Pratt, I would you both to take separate routes to Concord." Gage nodded and lifted off his hat before he turned his attention towards the two remaining men. Grey and Pratt had no reason to distrust their General. If Gage remained his ordinary position of authority role, they both assumed the British Crown had the situation under control.

"Of course, Gage. There's no need to ask." Grey kicked his boots on the horse's side to get it to move forward. Grey gave a vague, nervous smile towards Pratt as he sat off.

"Certainly, Sir." Pratt moved his lips to form a silent answer. He smiled encouragingly towards Grey.

"Now, men, do not forget your orders! Ah, Colonel Willoughby. I suppose you will be given the same secret order as Sir John." Gage turned around to watch the two men leave. Flabbergasted by the sight of the last soldier, Gage realized he had no order left to give the soldier. He scratched his head until he remembered that he was certain Sir John would not reject assistance.

"It will be an honor, sir." Nodding as the horse began to move forward, Willoughby motioned for his horse to move. Colonel Willoughby was relieved he had been given an order at last, he feared his General might have forgotten him.

The 10th Regiment's company of grenadiers conquered the South Bridge under, while over five companies of light infantry, a total of 100 men, held the North Bridge, where they were visible across the cleared fields to the gathering militia companies. The Captain of the 10th Regiment, Company took four companies from the 5th, 23rd, 38th and 52nd Regiments up the road 2 miles beyond the North Bridge to search Barrett's Farm, where they were told findings indicated supplies would be found. Two companies from the 4th and 10th Regiments were positioned to guard their return route, and one company from the 43rd remained guarding the actual bridge. These companies all shared the same misfortune; being put under inexperienced command of Captain Walter Laurie. Most of them were aware that they were significantly outnumbered by the over 400 men strong militia—Laurie sent Mr. James Willoughby to request reinforcements.

Using detailed information provided by Loyalist spies, the grenadier companies searched the small town for military supplies. When they arrived at a tavern, they choose the route through the jail on the South Bridge road and found the door barred shut. The Loyalists previous victory in Lexington was pivotal to them as they proceeded towards Concord.

"It's the British Royal army please allow us entry!" exclaimed Sir John in an assertive voice.

"I am not interested in siding with the British, since I am a pacifist," declared the owner without hesitation in a low stern voice. "Thus I will decline you access to my tavern."

"Men, listen: according to reports given by local Loyalists I was informed that the owner has cannons on his property, whispered Pitcairn to the armed soldiers.

"If you refuse to open, sir, we are not afraid to use our weapons to force our way inside,"Mr. Willoughby began hitting the shut tavern door with his pistol.

"Please take us immediately—to the concealment place of those cannons," Sir John said as he pointed the rifle of his pistol in the tavern owner's back.

These turned out to be three massive pieces that fired 24-pound shot. They would be of little use for the English in their planned defenseut might be useful if they ever had to organize an offensive attack, as it had become apparent that they had sufficient range to bombard the city of Boston from other parts of nearby inland. The grenadiers quickly shattered the trunnions of these three guns so they could not be mounted.

"Something must be done before the Colonist discovers the hidden gun carriages," whispered Mr. Willoughby and nodded towards them.

"I suggest we burn them!" Yelled Sir John. Soon the fire from the burning gun carriages began spreading through the village meetinghouse.

Close to a hundred barrels of flour and salted food were discarded and thrown into the mill pond, as well as 550 pounds of musket balls. Of the damage done, only that done to the cannon was significant. Eventually, the Massachusetts Militia discovered all the wounded and most of the British hidden food supplies. During the search, the regulars were generally honorable in their treatment of the locals, including paying for anything that they consumed. This would prove a very useful tactic to get the locals on their side, few locals felt inclined to tell the Colonists of the British whereabouts and plans.

As the British Army's concealed hiding place had been discovered by the Massachusetts Militia in the town's tavern. Massachusetts Militia was preoccupied with attempting to control a fire in the town meeting house. As the fighting progressed, the Minutemen were joined by more militia as they would try to cross a bridge.

A shot echoed out. It was assumed to be a warning shot fired by a panicked, fatigued British soldier from the 43rd, according to Captain Laurie's report to his commander after the fight. Two other regulars then fired immediately after that, shots splashing in the river, and then the narrow group up front, possibly thinking the order to fire had been given, fired an untidy cascade before Laurie could stop them.

* * *

Private George Morton was discovered shortly after having fallen victim to the militia's volleys still hanging by his feet in the stirrups on his horse as the horse came galloping in a frantic state. He was bleeding and occasionally groaned from the pain.

"Comrades, please... please come to my aid... please tell my wife... I am sorry... for leaving... her behind."

Private Morton knew his day had come... it was too soon; he would have preferred to not get called just yet. His three daughters—Abigail, Annabelle and little Amelia—were still not married. He was too young to leave now; it was not his time, none of his daughters were married or engaged to be married. His beloved wife was still too young to be a widow. It was not fair. Not for his wife, or for either of his daughters. They did not deserve to lose their father and for himself, he worried less. If he only would be able to see his wife and his three girls once more. He closed his eyes for a brief second as he attempted to envision the image of his young family. But it was to no avail, he could not remember them... the pain from his open wounds were too excruciating. He could not concentrate on anything but the pain.

* * *

As the fighting intensified in Concord, the younger Mr. Dashwood was blissfully unaware in his mind was issues of a more private nature. On his mind were issues of a more private nature. He was not looking forward to leaving his estate in the Province of New York and traveling back to Norland in Pennsylvania, Philadelphia. The death of his father had not come as a surprise to John, even though it soon dawned upon him that his father visited home for the last time and never again would be able to spend another day with his beloved grandson. The Colonists were defeated in Lexington by the time they entered Concord. The Massachusetts Bay militia had grown in size and thus was able to defeat the Loyalists and claim victory in the Lexington and Concord Battles.

The married couple had withdrawn after breakfast in the parlor of their modest estate. John Dashwood took a hard, intense look at his wife. "My love, I fear that I no longer can continue to neglect my father's daughters nor my stepmother. Therefore, I must depart from you, Harry and our home."

"Dearest, please. I understand. Do stay as long as you think is necessary. After all, you are your father's only heir." Fanny reached out her hand towards her husband.

The husband hesitated and sighed. "I do confess I worry for your well-being while I'm gone."

"John, my love, if I were you, I would also use to the time to investigate the running of your father's plantation. If I were you, I would be especially concerned with its economy such as the losses, profits, and expected earnings. But then again, what do I know? I am just a mere woman and wife!" The woman began caressing the man's hand with her own.

"That reminds me, Fanny. The question of my sisters' marriages seems to now be one of my responsibilities, and I think I must devote a bit of time on that urgent matter as well. Of course, it's only a matter of concern for Elinor and Marianne—fortunately, as my father's youngest, Margaret must wait at least two years before her first assembly." The man's expression changed into relief.

The woman leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "Dearest, with your father absent, I believe it is your duty to plan young Marianne's assembly. Your sister's future may depend on it."

"I know. My father was a proud fence-sitter. Since I am worried about the future of Norland, I believe it would be more beneficial if the invited bachelors were British Loyalists and from plantation families." John sighed.

"Of course, John, you should do what would be best for Norland and your sisters. I'm certain your father trusts you, or he would have arranged Marianne's assembly himself." Fanny exchanged a genuine smile with her husband.

Wrinkling his forehead, he contemplated the current situation. "As for the invited guests, I think we definitely have to extend an invitation to the eligible bachelors that attend Elinor's."

"That seems reasonable. I hope you haven't forgotten that Mr. Palmer no longer is a bachelor since he married the Jennings' second daughter." John nodded in agreement towards his wife.

"Believe me, Fanny, I have not forgotten that." With genuine honesty, he was sure to emphasize.

"John, I will leave you to decide if Mr. Brandon from Massachusetts should be invited, considering that it is a widely known fact that he is a fence-sitter." Another smile followed by Fanny.

"You are correct, Fanny, but Mr. Brandon is a British man like my father and owner of a grand salt plantation," he answered with some difficulty, still feeling a little hesitant. "Besides, he attended Elinor's assembly, so I'm obliged to invite him. I'm also thinking that it may be nice for Elinor to have someone to talk to."

She looked deep into his deep blue eyes and what felt like his very soul. "Dearest, I hope you will not allow someone like Mr. Brandon to marry either of your sisters!"

* * *

From Allenham Plantation in Virginia, Mr. Smith had an exquisite view of New River Gorge, Blackwater Falls and the Appalachian Mountains. Mr. Smith enjoyed spending time outside of his plantation especially in the later hours of the day, when shade was provided by the nearby trees: birch, elm, hickory and maple.

 _Dear Mr. John Dashwood._

 _I do apologize for my late reply, but I would hereby like to invite you to come and visit my family in Allenham. I have not forgotten that you visited us many years ago now. My wife and my daughters are really looking forward to make your acquaintance,please bring your lovely daughters and your wife with you on the trip._

 _Even if I am inviting you to stay at my Allenham estate, I feel like I must tell you that I was somewhat hurt to learn your only son had married. I have been hoping that my dear Maria would become the future Mrs. John Dashwood. I hear that Mrs. Dashwood is a most beloved creature that has blessed your son with an heir and has made you a proud grandfather. Please give my best to your family and to your son._

 _Sincerely Mr. Anthony Smith_

The letter reached its intended destination of Norland four days later and was recited twice by Mrs. Dashwood in the Parlor.

"Elinor, we have had the great fortune to finally receive an invitation back to visit Allenham."After finishing her second recitation of the letter, Mrs Dashwood gave her oldest daughter a look of concern and sighed.

"Yes, I remember when we all visited the Smith's at Allenham." That must be at least five years since." Elinor smiled when she heard her mother mention the Smith's Allenham estate.

"It is rather inconvenient to be invited now, with Mr. Dashwood gone."

* * *

Ever since receiving the new of her husband's death, Mrs. Dashwood had refused to pass by her late husband's library and study. Those were the rooms her Henry had preferred to spend many hours in. Elinor had resumed reading the same literature whose enjoyment she had shared with her father. The eldest daughter and the father She and her father would never discuss their favorite literature again. Marianne had sobbed for days and refused to practice playing on the pianoforte and had stopped singing. Her beloved pianoforte was silenced and would soon begin to gather dust. Margaret would never again ride her father's shoulders, or play hide and seek with him, or spend hours sharing secrets with her father in her treehouse.

"I never doubted that we would receive an invitation to Mr. Smith's beloved Allenham. Your father and Smith's share some history." Mrs. Dashwood blew her nose while her shoulders were shaking out of grief.

Elinor raised her voice in disbelief and exclaimed, "Mother, please do not make me remind you of the fact that people change!"

The mother sighed and gave her eldest daughter a sad look. "Dear Elinor, of course they do. Mr. Dashwood once saved M. Smith's life and they have been the most loyal friends ever since that day.

Marianne suddenly appeared and interrupted the serious discussion. "Is it true that we are going to Allenham at last?"

The mother smiled towards her second daughter and gave a vague nod. "Yes, Marianne, I think we have to, or else the Smiths may be offended."

Moments later the youngest, Margaret came running into the sitting room. Loudly, she exclaimed, "Really, Mother, can I go to, can I? I promise I will be good."

Taking no notice of her younger sister; Marianne looked into the distance and sighed. "I wonder if the Smith's sons still remember me."

Shrugging again, Elinor exchanged a smile with her mother. "How could anyone dare to forget such beauty?"

With her face full of disapproval, Marianne turned towards her older sister. "Elinor, you silly goose. Last time we were at Allenham, I was only ten. I was still a child then!"

"Marianne, if you are a Dashwood now, I am certain your future beauty already was noticed back then." Elinor reached for her sister's hand.

By the end of the week, a carriage traveled from the Norland plantation to the Allenham farm in Virginia. The travelers inside consisted of Mrs. Dashwood and her two elder daughters.

As their carriage arrived safely at Allenham, the Smiths were already expecting them. Mr. and Mrs. Smith were just outside the main building, eagerly looking into the distance for their expected guests as a carriage slowed and began to move towards their homestead.

Mr. Smith's face broke up into a smile. "Dear Mrs. Dashwood, I must apologize. I fear your visit is long overdue!"

Mrs. Dashwood curtsied and returned the host's smile. "Think nothing of it, Mr. Smith."

Mrs. Smith stepped forward and motioned towards a young man. "Dear John, let me introduce you to Mrs. Dashwood and her two elder daughters, Miss Elinor Dashwood and Miss Marianne."

Mrs. Dashwood acknowledged the young man with a nod. "Pleased to meet you, John."

The young man politely shook Mrs. Dashwood's hand before he let go and placed a kiss on it. "Likewise, the feeling is mutual. Mrs. Dashwood, Miss Dashwood and Miss Marianne."

"Mr. Smith, Mrs. Smith, Mr. John." Elinor observed her mother as she too curtsied and smiled.

"It's very nice to finally meet you, Mr. Smith—and your wife and family as well, of course." Mrs. Dashwood turned towards the older man before addressing the younger. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. John."

"Believe me; I share my sister's observation." The second daughter waited impatiently for her turn, she curtsied much deeper than was appropriate and turned to face the young man's eyes.

Willoughby could not help but notice the Dashwood women. Both of them must have inherited their mother's pleasing countenance. Mrs. Dashwood may no longer possess the beauty she once had, but she was still quite pleasing on the eyes. The eldest daughter seemed more reserved and remained a calm composure, while the second daughter mimicked their mother's more emotional conduct. The second daughter was a beauty like her older sister—yet her strongest features were the opposite of both her mother's and her sister's. He tried to avoid Marianne's curious and eager attempts to lock eyes with him. He raised his eyebrow in surprise, this situation was the very opposite of what he was accustomed too. _He preferred a challenge, and to fight to win a young girl's heart. Marianne was far too obvious to show her feelings for him in front of his aunt and uncle, and even her mother and sister. Had she no shame or inhibition? He knew his vice was the youth and beauty that most women naturally had. When Marianne finally let her eyes of him , his opinion of his new admirer was set. He found himself disinterested in Marianne due to her boldness to not hide her true convictions._

* * *

As the Dashwood's went to stay at Allenham, Mrs. Morton in New Jersey received a much anticipated letter from her bosom friend Mrs. Jennings. Mr. Morton, who only runs a mill for grain and produce in New Jersey had a modest workforce of ninety-nine indentured workers.

The sweet scent from the blooming locust and magnolia was spreading through an open window at the Morton's main estate. There were also hickory, hawthorn, larch, pine, and a few chestnut and walnut trees in the near vicinity. The New Jersey wetlands had proved ideal for their hemp and tobacco plantations, while the cottonwood spread and thrived in the swamps.

The Grey's kept two plantations, a rice plantation and a smaller one to produce salt. They only kept their two plantations running with the help of their 175 slaves.

"Dearest, I am shocked beyond belief; it seems Mr. Brandon finally has come to his senses. As he recently announced his decision to accept Lord Sandwich offer." Mrs. Grey grasped for air and frantically waived the fan in front of her. Mrs. Grey in Maryland learns that Mr. Brandon finally has been persuaded to turn sides: that he now is a Loyalist.

"My love, are you certain that it is no rumor or cruel joke? The Brandon's has been known for their neutrality for generations." Mr. Grey looked up with an astonished look.

"I know, I am as surprised, as you, husband. It seems that everyone has a price after all." Nodding while exclaiming.

"Unless Lord Sandwich offered Mr. Brandon something that he lacks. I for one, cannot imagine just what it would be." Placing his monocle back on his nose.

With a most tender look his wife said." Mr. Grey, I insist, you must extend an invitation to our new dear friend." In due time Mr. Grey was persuaded by his wife to write a letter informing the Lieutenant Colonel that the Grey's from Maryland, wanted to better acquaint with him even though he was a turncoat, he also was a Loyalist now at least according to Mr. Grey's wife.

The soothing sound of the Muddy Creek Falls was present all over Greymour Plantation, in Maryland. The hemp plantation as well as the tobacco plantation, the ash trees, oak, and maple thrived, while hickory spread near the main house.

 _Dear Lieutenant Colonel Brandon,_

 _We are pleased to receive news that you decided to join our British Royal forces after all. Therefore, we would like to have cordially extended an invitation for you to visit my plantation and estate. That way you would get a chance to meet my family. It would be an honor to host you here at Greymour Plantation. I would like to mention that I unfortunately have three unmarried daughters: Clara, Charlotte, and Sophia. For you, good sir, this news is not unfortunate but not of insignificance._

 _Sincerely, Mr. Walter Grey_

A letter was sent from the Grey's in Maryland to the Delaford estate just as the fighting had moved onwards to Bunker Hill...

Throughout May, in response to orders from Gage requesting support , the British received reinforcements, until they reached the strength of about six thousand men. On the 25th, three generals arrived on HMS Cerberus: William Howe, John Burgoyne, and Henry Clinton. Gage began planning with them to break out of the city, finalizing a plan on the 12th of June. This plan began with the taking of the Dorchester Neck, fortifying the Dorchester Heights, and then marching on the colonial forces stationed at Roxbury. Once the southern flank had been secured, the Charlestown heights would be taken, and the forces in Cambridge would be driven away. They agreed and planned for the attack to happen on the eighteenth.

Captain Charles Ferrars nodded. "I understand, the plan is meant to be set for action on the eighteenth."

* * *

By June 13, the Massachusetts Provincial Congress was informed, by express messenger from the Committee of Safety in Exeter, New Hampshire, that a New Hampshire gentleman of indisputable legitimacy while visiting Boston, eavesdropped at the British commanders making plans to overtake Dorchester and Charlestown. On June 15, the Massachusetts Committee of Safety decided that further lines needed to be erected. General Ward directed General Israel Putnam to set up defenses on the Charlestown Peninsula, specifically on Bunker Hill...

"General Putnam, I hereby order you to reinforce defense around Charlestown and especially the area surrounding Bunker Hill. A Mr. Willoughby has kindly told us that the British commanders attempts to take Dorchester and Charleston," General Ward said in his usual authoritative voice.


	6. Apparatus quia Bunker Hill

Back in Norland two sisters still able to support each other, the least of their worries were possible pregnancies and young admirers with ulterior motives. The worried not or themselves but for someone else-Miss Margret Dashwood. Planter's youngest daughter, her mother had left her in the care of Nancy and Lucy as she traveled to Virginia and the Smith's Allenham estate. Normally, one might not leave a daughter in the care of one's indentured workers, but Mrs Dashwood had developed a special bond-especially to Nancy. When Lucy became a permanent member in the Dashwood household, she was just as welcomed.

Nancy's clothes were wrinkled and not properly tucked in. Her hair had losened from the braids. Her shirt was stained of sweat and she was out of breath.

"Lucy dear, you haven't seen Miss Margaret anywhere have you?" she asked as she leaned her back on a big oak.

Lucy looked up in surprise from where she was sitting on the grass.

"No, Nancy I 'ave'nt, whispered Lucy back towards her sister."

"But, please be honest-when exactly did you see her last?" She closed her eyes to catch her breath." Try to remember, she said with pleading eyes.

Her sister bit her lip as she tried to remember exactly when she last saw Miss Margaret."You know Nancy, last time I saw her for sure must be three or maybe four days now. But I think, I've remember the maid said she saw her a few days back."Lucy said slowly.

Her voice cracked as she became upset.

"This is most unfortunate since you know that planter's son and family is expected to arrive here any now!" Nancy gasped and put her hands over her mouth.

The younger woman smiled in attempt to calm her sister down."Normally I wouldn't worry, you know how she likes to wonder. But it rare for young Miss Margret to be absent for a meal..."

The older woman took no notice of her sister's failed attempt. Instead she clenched her teeth and put her hands to her waist.

"Will you help me look for her, dear Lucy? I fear what would happen to us if she isn't back before her older brother has arrived.

Lucy sighed and begun to brush the grass stains from her skirts. She sighed as she answered.

"Please Nancy, do not remind me of young Mrs Dashwood I fear her cruel punishment already! "exclaimed Lucy with open fear.

Dejectedly Nancy put her arms up in the air.

"For Dowager Dashwood we must do our very best to try to find planter's youngest daughter. Can you not think of anywhere that she could be? I seem to recall young Margaret playing hide and seek with Miss Marianne. Now what was Margaret last hiding place, please Lucy try to remember!"

Lucy wrinkled her forehead as she tried to think of something.

"If Miss Margaret isn't back before her mother and two sisters I suppose we must tell someone."

"Yes! Or better yet get someone to help us look for Miss Margaret, Nancy exclaimed and looked relieved. ."

"I don't suppose you know who exactly we could ask to help us? I for one dread going to Fanny," Lucy confessed, lowering her voice as she whispered.

I see no reason to bother Dowager Dashwood or Miss Marianne. They are still bereaved and Marianne's cotillion is supposed to be a happy occasion. " She slowly answered in a calmer voice.

"Then who, Nancy?" asked Lucy curiously.

"Seeing that we can't burden Dowager Dashwood nor tell Miss Marianne, there's only one person we can tell. We better hope the Dashwoods are back before our new mistress." Nancy sighed.

* * *

The absence of Margaret had not only transformed the Norland Plantation. The worry for Margaret served to prepare everyone on the estate that life as they knew it most likely was about to change—as planter's only son soon would come to claim his rightful place. There was no singing, music or loud laughter. The young red-haired girl, always so cheerful and happy, was nowhere to be found.

"A ghrá," the Irish boy said as he looked deeply into the younger girl's eyes.

"Oh I do, I love you too Mr. O'Shenessy!" giggled the young girl, as she exchanged a tender look with him.

"A rúnsearc," the young boy said in a serious tone of voice,now holding the young girl's hands between his own.

"Mr. O'Shenessy, your feelings are reciprocated", the girl said and attempted to sound serious.

"Mo shíorghrá, M'fhíorghrá" the Irish boy said with a determined tone of voice.

The young soldier boy— finally old enough to join his father as an equal in the Irish regiment- led by Francis Marion and Andrew Pickens. Private Conchobar O'Shenessey—the father of the Irish boy—had proven both brave and useful. He had managed to capture many of the ships in Machias together with Lt Colonel Brandon.

At first the father didn't like to see his only son—barely young enough to fight—suddenly become his equal on the battlefield. Francis Marion and Andrew Pickens had eventually managed to persuade the father that the boy might be useful for his fellow Irish and vital to George Washington's army in the end.

The boy thought—finally being old enough—he was old enough to seek a wife.

* * *

As the young soldier and the girl soon would cross the border into Maryland. Louis was slowly getting accustomed to his new reality-he could probably get used to his new life. Gone where the days of pure exhaustion. His new planter almost saw him as an equal and a friend. Mrs Jennings planter's wife would often come and talk to him, and sometimes offer him some beer. It was a stark difference to his first five years at the Barton rice plantation. He actually enjoyed his chores at the Jennings corn farm. He was beginning to make friends with the other workers at the Jennings farm. But he had yet to find a woman that he cared for in that way... But he had managed to befriend many of the workers at The Jennings corn plantation.

"Louis, I think you'll find your new life her more to your liking—I don't use corporal punishment nor do I believe in physical punishment. I'm certain your previous [sp] owner never told you that I am a patriot." I'm certain your previos owner never told you that I am patriot."

"No, he didn't, sir."

"As for your chores I don't expect you to work until the dawn. I only want you to work seven hours a day all day but Sunday. On Sunday you're only expected to work for five 'll be given your chores later this afternoon. This leaves you time to practice your handicraft. I understand you are very talented with the knife and do excellent woodwork. Louis, one more thing: I realize you are a young man and it's only natural if you fancy a woman—either here on my estate or on someone else's property. Don't feel bad or try to conceal it—I encourage my workforce to build their own families."

"I, see, sir."

"But I'm afraid, I am of little help if you would like to seek permisson to marry someone else's female slave."

"I understand, sir."

The female workers were all nice, unfortunately Louis soon learned that they either were too old for him, married or too young for him.

Such thoughts had not been encouraged by his previous planter. Therefore Louis didn't know how to socialize with other women in that way. Once the corn harvest was harvested he had been told he could travel to sell his craft if he so wished.

* * *

 _Charlestown, Massachusetts, June 16 1775_

Mr. Ferrars, a native from New York had many friends and neighbors that supported the Minutemen militia against the British. The Ferrars family had always had a strong alliance with the British crown and Mr Edward Ferrars not only considered it his duty and a sign of loyality to him it was an honor.

Sir John Middleton was relieved that he managed to sell Louis just before the British summoned him to take up arms at the Battle of Bunker Hill. To him, it was most inconvenient, since he disliked any errand that prevented him from overlooking the daily routines of his rice plantation, Barton.

Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Palmer, was another British Loyalist from Georgia was quick to answer to the British call.

Third lieutenant Walter Grey from Maryland was also proud to defend his alliance to the British Crown. Even though all four men were proud to give their life to defend the British even though Private Ferrars only had to pass through New York and Connecticut to get to Massachusetts he still had to travel well over 150 miles.

While Grey and Palmer both went through four states to reach Massachusetts, Grey began from Maryland passing through New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut. It was a distance of 325 miles to get to Massachusetts. Palmer took the road that started in Georgia—passing through North Carolina, Virginia, Delaware, New Jersey, New York, and Connecticut to reach the location. Giving the respectable distance of of 948 miles to reach Massachusetts. Sir John Middleton started off from North Carolina, Virginia, New Jersey, Delaware, New Jersey, New York and Connecticut. Making it a distance of 615 miles to make it to Massachusets.

Sir John, Grey and Palmer would all meet each other in New Jersey and the Morton plantation.

Captain Ferrars had the shortest to travel with a mere 180 miles. Since he passed through Pennsylvania and Philadelphia, he would stop at Norland Plantation on his way.

It still was not certain any of the men would reach Massachusetts, Bunker Hill in time. All the four of them could do is hope that their journey would not be in vain...

The works on Breed's Hill were soon discovered by the British. General Clinton, out on visual observation, was aware of them, and tried to convince Gage and Howe that they needed to preparet to attack the position at daylight. British guards were also aware of the activity, but most apparently did not think it cause for , in the early predawn, Theodore, Mr Morton's valet on board HMS Lively spotted the new fortification, and notified her captain. Lively opened fire, temporarily halting the colonists' work. Aboard his flagship HMS Somerset, Admiral Samuel Graves awoke, irritated by the gunfire that he had not ordered. He stopped it, only to have General Gage annul his decision when he became fully aware of the situation in the morning. He ordered all 128 guns in the harbor, as well as batteries on the crest of Copp's Hill in Boston, to fire on the colonial position. The rising sun also alerted Prescott to a significant problem with t on either side. He promptly ordered his me

* * *

 _Virginia, Allenham_

It was such a shame that Smith's had no legitimate male heir. For Mrs. Smith, it meant that she probably never would welcome either of the Dashwood daughters into her own family as daughter-in-law. She had been smitten by them both and she knew that both daughters would become excellent wives and caring mothers judging by the way that widow Dashwood was. She had given birth to many sons, but none of her sons managed to reach adulthood.

Sometimes, Mrs. Smith wondered what would happen to her husband's beloved Allenham when they were gone. Fortunately, the estate would pass on to her nephew Mr. Willoughby. As for her hubsband's male decendants and the Allenham Smiths, the line would cease to exist with herself and her husband. Mrs. Smith had thought it was high time for her nephew to settle down and take a wife. So far, though, Willoughby seemed to be in no hurry. Perhaps he would come to his senses and soon propose marriage to a suitable young woman—maybe he would find one at Miss Marianne's cotillion... She was elated that her nephew had received an invitation to Miss Dashwood's cotillion.

Nobody could have failed to notice how smitten Miss Marianne had been in her nephew. Her nephew was not easy to please and she was not oblivious to her nephew's reputation of being a ladies' man. She hoped it only was a matter of finding the right woman. In many ways, Willoughby reminded her of her husband. He, too, had had a reputation... Mr. Smith was just as dashing as his nephew now was, but Mrs. Smith had not agreed to marry him based on his appearance. Their marriage had been arranged—she was a daughter to a man of wealth just as Mr. Smith had been the only heir to good estate and wealth in Virginia. She had heard from Mrs. Dashwood that there would be many suitable young daughters from good families at Miss Marianne's cotillion...

The constant distant sound from the Berkeley Springs, Blackwater Falls and River Gorge usually provided some relief and calm for Mrs. Smith. Not this time.

After harvesting and gathering oak, pine and maple on his farm,Edward decided to attempt to write his sister.

* * *

 _New York, Iron Nest Farm_

 _Dear Fanny,_

 _You know I would not write you unless there are real cause for concern. I know you are a Dashwood now, and your duties as well as obligations should be your new family. I hate to make you leave your family but I fear that you must come. Mother is beside herself and she had both me and Robert promise not to bother you. Unfortunately it seems like our father has been missing ever since the British trops tried to conquer Bunker Hill._

 _Sincerely, your devoted brother, Edward_

As Edward wrote the letter he remembered that he promised his father to take his place when he was gone. After all, Edward was the oldest male in the Ferrars household now and he certainly knew what was expected of him. His mother Mrs. Ferrars, had always been very distant towards him but now Edward hoped that all would change. Perhaps if he signed up for the loyalist his mother finally would accept him... Could he really do that, though...? He knew his mother and Fanny would be busy planning for him to take a wife. He had responsibilities back in New York now.

Fanny, the only daughter to Charles Ferrars and his wife, was still a member of the Ferrars family,although her loyalty and main priority were the concern of her own family, John Dashwood and their only son Harry. She was beginning to get worried. Surely John would have arrived in Philadelphia and Norland by now. Every day she inquired the butler if there were any news from her husband or Norland. John had told her he would send for her, to let her know she could begin to prepare to move to Norland with their son... Until now, John had always kept his word. Maybe she had underestimated his loyalty and trust—or perhaps something really had happened to him...

 _Dear Edward_

 _I thank you for your consideration. Edward dear, I understand your worry and concern for father—but it is still early days. As far as I know, the clashes between the British and colonists are still ongoing. Have a little faith, I am certain nothing happened to our father. If something would have happened, I believe we will find out. I want you to know dear brother, that I am preparing to move to Norland with my son—as soon as John has sent for me._

 _Sincerely, Mrs. Fanny Dashwood_

At the same time, her father-in-law's death had come very suddenly and at an inconvenient time for her. Unless she wanted her bereave stepmother-in-law to continue living under the same roof she would have to see to it that her mother-in-law was remarried, preferably as soon as her official mourning period had come to an end and at the most within a year. Fanny knew all too well how very close John had been with his stepsisters—especially the younger two, Marianne and Margaret. Fanny hoped all three of her husband's younger stepsister's soon would be married, that way they were not expected to continue living at Norland. Fanny was known to get her way, and she had developed a rather short temper if her will was not answered in a timely manner.

 _Dear Sir Middleton,_

 _I am writing to you now on behalf of my bereaved mother-in-law._

 _Dowager Dashwood is still young and beautiful and it would be selfish of me to not allow her another chance at happiness. She can still make a suitable second or third wife and if all goes well, even bare her new husband a couple of children. My husband John believes—as well as I do that it would be wrong and selfish to do otherwise. Especially since my late father-in-law insisted his wife would remarry if he went before his wife. Now, I am well aware of the fact that Dowager Dashwood's mourning period isn't over yet. Time is no longer on our side perhaps you know some suitable respected middle-aged British man that wouldn't hesitate to remarry a widow with three daughters._

 _On behalf of John Dashwood through his wife Fanny_

* * *

When the British generals met to discuss their options, General Clinton, who had urged an attack as early as possible, preferred an attack beginning from the Charlestown Neck that would cut off the colonists' retreat, reducing the process of capturing the new redoubt to one of starving out its occupants. However, he was outvoted by the other three generals. Howe, who was the senior officer present and would lead the assault, was of the opinion that the hill was open and easy of ascent and in short would be easily carried.

Theodore, Mr. Morton's valet, soon replaced his master and proved an excellent substitution and a skilled soldier. He would havve made his planter proud.

"No disrespect good sirs, but I think General Burgoyne's suggestion makes more sense." Theodore said in a nervous voice.

General Burgoyne concurred, arguing that the untrained rabble would be no match for their trained troops. Orders were then issued to prepare the expedition.

General Gage surveyed the works from Boston with his staff. Though the British generals jointly had come to the most suitable strategic move, the danger was not over. The British was forced to make several hazardous trips in longboats just to move Howe's primary forces—estimated to be 1500 men strong—to the eastern corner of the peninsula. Moulton's Point. General Howe was to lead the major assault, drive around the colonial left flank, and surprise the enemy from the opposite side. Brigadier General Robert Pigot on the British left flank would lead the direct assault on the stronghold, and Major John Pitcairn led the reserve force. As Howe's main army attempted to cross safely over the river to the other side, they soon discovered the large number of colonial troops on the top of Bunker Hill. Believing these to be reinforcements, Howe instantaneously sent Theodore with a message to Gage. In that message he demanded supplementary troops. He then ordered some of the light infantry to take a leading position along the eastern side of the peninsula. This served as forewarning of Howe's planned course of action. The exhausted troops then sat down to eat while they waited for the reinforcements. Soon, their strength would be restored and they would be resilient and strong and well-rested men.


	7. Ad arma

Although clashes between the British and colonists still showed little sign of resolution, the battle had not yet reached Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, although the battle of Lexington and Concord forever changed the life and future of the inhabitants at the Norland Plantation.

Even though it was late into the afternoon, the heat outside was still high, the regular temperature being 90 degrees Fahrenheit. Elinor was a bit reluctant to leave the slightly cooler inside temperature, but the look on Lucy's face made her change her mind. Never before had Lucy had that worried look on her face.

Elinor could not help but be concerned as Nancy held her by the hand and led her out into the garden.

"What's the matter now, Nancy? Please tell me what is wrong, Lucy!"

"Miss Elinor, promise not be mad at us. You must promise us, Miss Elinor!" Lucy exclaimed in a high-pitched voice.

She gave a vague smile and nodded silently. "Calm down, Lucy. If it means that much to you, then you have my word," Elinor said.

Nancy cleared her throat and turned her head as she didn't dare to look at Miss Elinor.

"It seems your sister Miss Margaret is missing. We expected her back several days ago. We looked everywhere for Miss Margaret but have not found her yet," Nancy stated.

Elinor spoke slowly and calmly. "This is certainly unfortunate. Does anyone else know? You did the right thing to tell me. Let's try to keep this between us."

Astonished, Lucy asked, "Aren't you angry at us, Miss Elinor?"

"How could I ever? I know how much my sister means to you—both of you."

"What do you suggest we do Miss Elinor?" Nancy asked in desperation.

"Should my sister still be missing after Marianne's cotillion, then I promise you that I personally will write Edward Ferrars and ask him to help us look for Margaret."

"Isn't Edward Ferrars Fanny Dashwood's brother?" Nancy turned to Miss Dashwood as she wanted confirmation—if her concern was unfounded or valid.

"The very same," answered Elinor with a smile.

"Are you absolutely certain we could trust him, Miss Elinor?" asked Lucy.

"We better not let Fanny know that Margaret is missing still—not until we have had Marianne's cotillion." Elinor whispered and looked back at the main building.

"Yes, perhaps she will be back or found by then!" Lucy exclaimed, looking relieved.

Everyone knew Miss Margaret had a fondness for playinghide and seek. She was quite an expert in finding the most unlikeliest hiding places. She was eventually discovered and had never remained in hiding for more than a day. Therefore, the three women were not worried yet.

Elinor lowered her voice and turned to Nancy, then looked directly at Lucy. "And please don't let a word slip to Marianne about Margaret's disappearance. It would ruin her day—and not to mention her very first cotillion."

Later in the evening time had finally come for Marianne's long awaited first cotillion. The guests had traveled quite the distance to attend Miss Marianne Dashwood's first cotillion at Norland.

The invited guests were as expected the Middleton heir and the Ferrars eldest son. Neither of the two had yet arrived.

* * *

The earliest guests were Mr. Smith,and John. In contrast to Marianne's first assembly, there were other young ladies—daughters from prominent families—present as well. Miss Grey, Miss Morton, Miss Palmer, and Miss Smith. If late Mr. Dashwood had been alive, the guest list would not have included as many British loyalist families but old friends, colonists and fence sitters...

Marianne was of course all dolled up in a new gown carefully chosen for the occasion. She wore a periwinkle and lavender blue checkered dress. It made her exotic beauty and features of her face even more becoming. Elinor wore a light green dot dress. Everyone's eyes were on Marianne, and at first she loved it and basked in the attention. The young ladies dresses were all very beautiful—some even exquisite. Yet Elinor knew she was considered plain next to her younger sister. Now she felt almost invisible, she was no stranger of this situation, having encountered it for the very first time in Marianne's first assembly. As soon as Marianne had entered the room there was a loud gasp followed by a sigh. Everyone grew silent. The men's eyes and attention were drawn towards the exotic beauty. The other young women noticed this of course—and began to whisper and gossip, behind her younger sister's back. Elinor knew exactly how they felt, since all the other women had an almost identical countenance to her own. She reluctantly admitted that she felt jelaous at her sister. She used to feel proud and nothing but love but that was before they suddenly were rivals. Of course, being Elinor, she never allowed herself any oppertunity to let her true feelings show.

"Miss Dashwood, allow me to express my sincere gratitude for being invited to your first cotillion." Miss Morton curtsied deeply and gave an insincere smile. Miss Morton was wearing a yellow silk dress.

Miss Palmer was standing in the corner of the room trying to contain her laughter she blinked at Miss Smith behind Marianne's back. She wore a blue silk dress that was slightly out of fashion,probably inherited from one of her sisters or even her late mother.

Miss Smith, who was wearing a pink silk dress, gave Miss Morton a quick look before she echoed her words. "My sentiments exacly. I hope this is the start of our renewed friendship."

"Miss Dashwood, we simply could not decline an invitation to Norland from your stepbrother's wife." Miss Grey nodded towards the other young women as she curtsied. She offered a big grin with a nod yet kept insisting on keeping one of her glowed hands behind her back. She crossed the fingers on her right hand behind her back. Miss Grey wore a white silk dress.

Moments later, Mr. Smith arrived. He locked eyes with Marianne across the room and smiled encouragingly towards her. As he twirled her around the room, he whispered into her ear.

'"Miss Dashwood, I confess that I never imagined I ever would have a reason to be visiting Norland. It was such an honor and a great surprise to receive an invitation to your very first cotillion."

A little later Sir John's son's inquired about her mother's changed future as a widow.

"Miss Marianne, I was under the impression that your mother still is a bereaved woman with no intention to remarry before her official mourning period passed. Please correct me if I'm wrong." He elegantly led her around the room as he inquired about Miss Dashwood's future. Why would he not do so when the opportunity presented itself? After all, Miss Dashwood was his father's first cousin. So it was of vital importance that his father was informed."

Marianne stopped in her steps and raised her voice.

"Of course, you are wrong, even though I am aware of Father's wish to see our mother remarried. Excuse me, dear cousin, but what reason do you have to inquire about mother's future?"

Mr. Middleton looked apologetically at Marianne.

"My father recently received a letter, giving the impression that your mother meant to remarry as soon as possible. My father wanted me to confirm the truth."

* * *

Prescott, noticing the British preparations, demanded additional men. The reinforcement call was only answered by Private Jennings; nobody else cared to answer the General's plea. Troops that arrived to reinforce this side position included about 200 men from the 1st and 3rd New Hampshire regiments, had he insisted on his attack sooner the battle might have been subdued and significantly shorter. When low tide opened a gap along the Mystic River to the north, they quickly extended the fence with a short stone wall to the placed a stake about 100 feet in front of the fence and ordered that no one fire until the regulars passed it.

Behind the colonial lines, confusion reigned. A Third Brigader General was in one of units that returned as soon as they were hit by fire from the south. When Private Jennings regiment reached Bunker Hill, the regiment disbanded as soon they arrived and soldiers were left confused and bewildered, unsure of where to go next.

The colonial forces led by Private Jennings and Soldier Pratt, while nominally under the overall command of General Ward, with General Putnam and Colonel Prescott leading in the field, often acted quite independently. This was evident in the opening stages of the battle, when a tactical decision was made that had strategic implications.

Lucy sighed as she wiped off her forehead. "I know I'm not supposed to envy someone like Eliza—but I can't help to be jealous of someone like her."

Nancy smiled as she straightened her aching back."What exactly do think Eliza has that you don't, dear?"

The younger sister rolled her eyes and sighed. "She's pretty. Everyone knows that."

Nancy smiled again and shook her head. "Yes, dear. She is pretty, but a woman's beauty is not her only quality. Besides, it doesn't last long. I'm sure you will be pretty too one day. Wouldn't you rather be known for something else than your beauty?"

The younger sister, quite annoyed, uttered, "It's said she has a secret handsome beau!"

The older sister shook her shoulders. "Oh, Lucy don't you remember what Mama used to say? Choose a plain one to be safe—he will treat you like a queen. Handsome men are only good for breaking hearts and shouldn't be trusted. Don't you remember Lucy?"

The younger woman tripped and the logs of wood fell out her apron. "Oh, but Nancy do you think I ever will!"

Nancy quickly helped pick up the log's her sister lost."Don't be silly, Lucy—I could tell that you will be even prettier than dear Eliza—not now but in a few years. You need to learn not to trust men—especially not the good-looking ones."

* * *

Eliza had not seen nor heard from either him or his brother-in-law M. Yvon ever since April. She felt scared and vulnerable and she feared her health was failing... She had not been able to keep any of her food down. She had also started to lose weight and had difficulties sleeping... She wished Mr. Brandon or Mr. Yvon would arrive to comfort her but the city of Boston was sealed of, it had been besieged on the same day as the Battle of Lexington and Concord. Since nobody was allowed inside or outside, Eliza was not able to visit her dear friend Amy—not even write to her. _Now she was left all on her own, left to enjoy the peaches from the peach trees, plums from the plum trees, persimmon from the persimmon trees, olives from the olive trees, and figs from the fig trees. Usually Eliza looked forward to enjoying the fruit and olives from the Delaford garden. Not this time, now she would gladly have traded any of the fruit if it meant she would no longer be left alone to her own devices..._

It did not go unnoticed by Mrs. Willoughby that Joe was a trusted, loyal man who rarely complained about his daily chores. She was relieved that she would not have to regret hiring Joe to help with their farm.

"Joe, you've done an excellent job helping me with my farm."

He's cheeks begun to feel warm, he knew he was blushing. He was not used to praise and compliments.

"Thank, you kindly, mam."

She nodded slowly and smiled towards the man.

"I can see why the Ferrars rewarded you with liberation."

He looked down at his ill-fitting clothes, the only memory he had left from the Ferrars family apart from his surname.

"Yes, ma'm. I'm very grateful for them."

She wet her lips and wiped her forehead.

"Well, you should, Joe, dear. If it wasn't for them you might still have been under a servitude contract."

He looked into the distance starring straight forward. Lingering on his words.

"I owe Edward Ferrars quite a lot. I even believe I'm in debt to him, yes ma'm. Unfortunately, I don't know how to repay that debt."

* * *

The regulars reformed on the field and marched out again. This time, Pigot was not to dodge; he was to attack the citadel,without any assistance from Howe and his force. Howe marched instead against Knowlton's position along the rail fence. The outcome of the second attack was much the same as the first. Pigot did not fare any better in his attack on the keep, and again ordered a departure. Meanwhile, in the rear of the colonial forces, confusion continued to sway. General Putnam tried, with only partial success, to send supplementary troops from Bunker Hill to Breed's Hill to support the men in the fort and along the defensive lines.

The soldier in command smirked and addressed his hostage. The soldier hoped he would be reworded for capturing one of the men responsible for the Intolerable Acts. The soldiers had either released or gotten rid of the remaining passengers on the ferry. Except for one Henry Dashwood the son of Mr. Dashwood.

Third Lieutenant Grey who just passed through the Province of New York would soon reach New Jersey, he was determined to not stop for a break before his horse had taken him to New Jersey where he would meet up with Sir John and Palmer.

Lieutenant Colonel Palmer had just left North Carolina the other and would soon be near the Virginia border. Then he only had to lead his horse to Delaware before the agreed break in New Jersey. Meanwhile Sir John would soon leave the Virginia border and be in New Jersey. Once in New Jersey he would wait for the remaining three men as previously agreed.

"Alright, Mr. Dashwood, we won't force you to put on the British uniform. If you try to flee, my men might be tempted to use force. I personally would like to keep you alive. You are more valuable to me as a living man. With you captured it would mean that Norland has no male protection—am I right? Neither of them have secured a husband, if I remember correctly. That's very unfortunate especially since your two elder sisters are such a sight to look at-after what I've heard. Your bereaved step-mother is not that hard on the eyes either, married your father at a very young age. Your youngest sister—Margaret, is it?—seems to have a stubborn streak in her. Leave her to me and she will soon be a changed young girl."

The soldier knelt down and whispered in the captured man's ear. "Mr. Dashwood, I know you were more actively involved in the Dumping of the Tea in Boston..."

* * *

The young girl's life was altered and shattered when her father was reported killed in combat a few months ago. _Her mother and older sisters still considered her a naive child—of course they never said so, but they still treated her as one. She still had a few years left of her childhood so the divide between the young girl and her elder sisters widened their differences. Suddenly, the young girl felt as if she was naive, immature and childish. She had nobody to confide in now, she felt abandoned and alone. All she ever wanted was to have someone to confide in and to be their friend..._ She was not born with blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin or exotic olive skin, curly hair, and dark eyes. Instead, she was plain, with freckles, grey eyes, and reddish hair—neither blonde nor red. Her appearance never used to bother her, her father raised her as the son he never got. She missed her father now...

The soldier boy was quite surprised to see the young girl eagerly agree to run away with him. _Her mother rarely spoke to her and the elder sisters were preoccupied with their own struggles. There were little time for play and laughter and she often found herself overlooked and forgotten._

The young soldier boy admired the young girl. He took of his hat, turned towards the girl and asked with a big grin.

"Ta mo chroi istigh ionat?"

The young girl smiled and gave him a tender caress on his cheek.

"Yes, oh yes Malachi O'Shenessy son of Conchobar O'Shenessy from Ballyshannon Ireland. I would like nothing else than to be your wife—Mrs. Malachi O'Shenessy."

He reached for her hand looked her deep into her eyes and placed a kiss on her small hand.

"Then, my dear, we need to find a justice of the peace somewhere."

She looked over her shoulder, before she gave the soldier boy a brief peck on his cheek.

"We could either go to Charlestown or Bath."

The soldier boy smiled, he realized the young girl's impulsive sign of affection took him off guard.

"Seeing that it is ongoing clashes between the British and the colonists in Charlestown, I suppose our only option is Bath."

An awkward silence followed as the boy felt his cheeks go even darker, as he admitted that he liked to be kissed by the young girl.


	8. Audi iter tympanum

The young couple arrived in Bath, North Carolina in the wee hours before dusk. It was soon completely dark the young woman is not worried or afraid of the dark. Margaret was used to darkness and late nights. She was starting to feel convinced nobody would look for her, not now when she had been gone for too long. They would have noticed many nights ago. If they worried, they would have sent someone to look for her.

Soon, she would be Mrs. Malachi O'Shenessy. Perhaps she would not have agreed to marry the first boy that she met as soon as it was legally accepted— had it not been for the fact that she missed her father and his unconditional love. Would she have looked forward to the privileged life at Norland with her first assembly and cotillion in less than two years? Possibly, but nobody could be as happy for a first assembly and cotillion like her sister.

Her mother was not only the bereaved widow of Mr. Dashwood, but also a first cousin to Sir John Middleton. For generations, it was expected and assumed that a Middleton son married one of his cousins. Margaret had suspected that her mother and Sir John were hoping either Marianne or she married Sir John's second or third son. Elinor, on the other hand would have made a perfect wife but she was far too old for both the second and the third son.

Ni féidir liom fanacht chun tou a iarraidh ar mo bhean chélie," he said with a thick voice and teary eyes.

She smiled at him and sighed,"My love, please hold me in your arms."

 _She would no longer be lonely, someone would be her closest confidant and care about her opinions and her thoughts. She understood her future husband's thoughts and opinions but she not only supported them she wanted be part of the same cause. She insisted of never leaving his side, it meant she expected to join her husband in active combat._

"Tar éis sin Ba mahaith liom a mach." He whispered in her ear as he held her in his arms.

The teenage boy twisted his body out of awkwardness. "Tá."

The justice of the peace looked into his book. "Son are you absolutely, certain you are old enough to take a wife?"

The young soldier would soon have a wife, someone that would miss him like his father used to. Since she now would be his wife, he expected her to wait and worry for him. _He wanted to marry her since she reminded him of his mother. His mother had the Irish beauty of red hair, freckles and green eyes. His young wife reminded him of his mother she too had freckles and reddish hair. Most importantly he knew his young wife was the daughter of a patriot. He knew she shared the same opinions and thoughts even to the point that she supported them._

The teenage boy cleared his voice and smiled towards the woman that stood beside him on his right side. "Tá."

The justice of the peace looked up from his book and glanced at the young girl.

"Very well then, do you Mr. Malachi O'Shanessy take Miss Margaret Dashwood as your lawfully wedded wife?"

 _He suddenly hesitated if his decision to wed was justified. Other than knowing that Margaret was the daughter of a patriot and that she loved him he did not know much else. She was also awfully young maybe it was selfish of him to demand that Margaret be his wife. Could he honestly live with himself if Margaret became a mother to his child, when she still was considered one herself?_

* * *

As the young man stood to take a wife, back in Norland the Dashwood's were trying their best to prepare for Marianne's first cotillion while still being perfect hosts, a role the younger Mrs. Dashwood seemingly excelled at. Yet all was not well, the two sisters had not been able to find their missing sister Margaret.

"Dearest Elinor, why did you not call on me sooner? Aren't we supposed to be family?" Edward said and grabbed her hands between his own.

The woman sighed and dropped her shoulders. "Don't you see the reason for my hesitation was based on the very same fact that united our two families?"

"Elinor, Elinor. I may be a Ferrars and one of Fanny's brothers. That doesn't mean my private life has restrictions-yet obligations. Neither of which should prevent the two us from developing a more intimate bond-even a friendship if you will," he murmured and shook his head.

"I'm relieved, and nothing would please me more. But please, let's find my sister first!" She looked straight into his handsome eyes and gave a modest smile.

"Of course I will help you look for young Margaret. In fact, I know exactly what to do. The first thing I shall do is to write my younger brother. Robert being in Connecticut means he will be able to assist in the search for your sister."

"I hope you will be able to keep this between us. Especially for Marianne but also my poor mother's nerves." Elinor looked around her shoulders and began to whisper.

"Don't worry Elinor, I am certain we will find your youngest sister. After all, a sister to you would be a sister to me isn't, it so Elinor?" his voice low as he approached her.

* * *

 _The second night of Marianne's first cotillion._

Marianne was elated to see the Smith's son, John, as one of the invited guests. She was constantly exchanging smiles and glances with the young gentleman. After dancing the required dances with her cousin Middleton, Mr. Ferrars and Mr. Smith, John was persuaded to take over after Mr. Smith.

It was certainly no secret that Marianne was smitten or infatuated with the young man. She refused to acknowledge Mr. Smith instead— she insisted on dancing the entire evening with John whose real name was Willoughby. The other young ladies were a little dismayed, especially Miss Grey, Miss Morton and Miss Palmer. Marianne was completely oblivious to this. She basked in the attention because she loved to dance. More importantly, the object of her not-so-discrete infatuation had chosen to attend her very first cotillion. It did not cross her mind that John could have been invited as a guest of Mr. Smith, just as she failed to notice that none of the Jennings or Pratt daughters were there. She wrongfully assumed that the young man in Allenham was the Smith's son, John instead of Mrs Smith's heir, John Willoughby.

Willoughby smiled and nodded towards her. "It would be an honor if you and your sister would give me the honor to stay at my estate."

Looking deep into his green eyes, she whispered in his ears. "Nothing would please me more, Mr. Smith."

He twirled her around the room as he looked over his shoulder. "I recommend you come by Easter. My estate is at its glory then."

She smiled at him and looked up into his eyes. "Of course I will, John, and I will see to it that Elinor is free as well."

His face broke into a big smile, and he lifted off his hat. "Then it's settled, Miss Marianne, and I do look forward of having your family as my guests."

Willoughby soon realized that all the young ladies enviously wanted to be Miss Marianne Dashwood while the men wanted to be near her. At first, he had not planned to extend an invitation for Miss Marianne to visit his Combe Magna, but seeing how the men responded towards her he unconsciously agreed. Now, he would not let her know that he was beginning to change his first opinion on her. Instead he would have her continue making advances towards hem. He was a man, and any man that was praised by a beautiful young woman was bound to be flattered. The more the other men at Marianne's cotillion seemed to admire her, the more he wanted her for himself. But Willoughby was a gentleman, so he would not let his motives be known by anyone else.

* * *

 _To Mrs. Fanny Dashwood._

 _My dearest child, I pray you are in good health. I am appalled by your suggestion!_

 _Yet I do agree that my dear cousin Annie deserves to be somebody's wife eventually._

 _Since I know it was late Dashwood's last wish I will see to it that a suitable candidate is found._

 _But not before my cousin's mourning period is over._

 _I am shocked beyond belief that you, out of all people would suggest something like that._

 _Poor Henry must be turning in his grave._

 _Sincerely Sir John Middleton_

 _At the time of her husband's call to the Battle of Bunker Hill, Fanny was suspecting that she could be pregnant with her husband's child. She was not exactly thrilled at the idea of having to experience another pregnancy and childbirth. Another child she thought, would be redundant especially since they already had their male heir and son. That said, Fanny was expecting that her second child would be another son, since her firstborn was a male._ Of course, there was a slight chance this supposed child would turn out to be a daughter. Daughters were of no use to anyone's family— all they did was to request a hefty dowry. Imagine how surprised her husband would be if he returned to find his wife had given birth to his second son. _She could picture just how proud her dear husband would be. Although she knew all too well that he secretly wanted their son to have a sister._

New Jersey was the home of the Loyalist family Morton.

Miss Morton smiled nervously towards the Loyalist Captain, she hid her hands between her skirts."Captain Ferrars, as honored as my mother and I are to shelter Loyalist soldiers, and even though your dear sister wants us two to wed. Mother is reluctant to accept your promise of marriage. Especially now, it is rather inconvenient. But the family does wish you the best."

Before he set off from Norland, as promised Edward Ferrars sent a letter to his younger brother Robert. He wanted to do more but he was asked to help out in Bunker Hill.

 _From Norland_

 _To Robert Ferrars_

 _Dearest Robert._

 _I think I require your assistance to search for missing Margaret. Our missing Margaret._

 _Elinor does not want anyone else to know besides the two of us._

 _I know you see Elinor as a sister-then surely Margaret is your sister too._

 _Sincerely your devoted brother on behalf of Miss Dashwood_

As Robert read those words, he decided he would start his search for Margaret in Maryland. He knew exactly where to begin his search in Maryland—being a Ferrars and a Loyalist son sometimes proved useful. He would use his family name to ask the Grey's about possibly seeing or hearing about Margaret. Meanwhile, Captain Ferrars was first to arrive at the New Jersey meeting spot. He waited for Sir John, Third Lieutenant Grey and Lieutenant Colonel Palmer before the four of them would continue on together to New York and Massachusetts.

* * *

By 3 p.m., the British reinforcements, which included the First Marines, had arrived, and the British were ready. Brigadier General Pigot's force, gathering just south of Charlestown village, was taking fatalities from sniper fire, and Howe requested Admiral Graves for assistance in getting rid of assassins. Graves already having planned for that, ordered combustible shot fired into the village, and once completed sent a landing party to set fire. The smoke wafting from Charlestown gave a surreal backdrop to the combat, heavy winds preventing the smoke from spreading further to the fields.

Pigot, commanding the five different regiments, as well as Major Pitcairn's Marines, was to dodge an assault on the fortification. However, they continued to be beleaguered by snipers in Charlestown, and Pigot, when he saw what happened to Howe's advance, ordered a withdrawal.

"Ah, Theodore. What decision have you made?" Major Pitcairn asked.

"Since we already established that my loyalty towards the British Crown is constant. It would be a lie if I didn't admit to being honored by your request," Theodore replied.

"Does it mean you will agree then, Theodore?" inquired Pigot.

"I would consider serving for the British Crown the next best thing, after serving my master. If my services are of any help to you, then I will be happy to be of use to you." Theodore nodded with a smile. He continued scratching his forehead.

"What exactly are you asking me?"

"Your background as an indentured worker makes you more convincing as a patriotic supporter or even liberated slave." Graves explained while not taking his eyes off Theodore.

"Of course, we won't accept an answer straight away we rather you took some time to think it over." Pitcairn tried his best to ease Theodore's worries.

"I only have myself to answer to. It would be an honor for me to give my life for the British Crown. I hope to make my late master proud!" he answered slowly in a clear voice.

* * *

 _Dear Mr. Jennings,_

 _I write you now to inquire if your daughters received an invitation to Miss Dashwood's cotillion. Mrs Fanny Dashwood is supposedly to hold responsible for the missing invitation. There's a persistent rumor about the Allenham heir attending. Next to the Middletons, the Dashwoods are well-known for their parties. Trust me, my children would never accept an invitation to Barton. Knowing that my only son recently passed, perhaps the reason for no invitation to Norland was our official mourning period._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Mr Pratt_

He knew how close his daughters were with the three Dashwood daughters they had spent so many days there that they were familiar with Norland. Even knew it better than their own family estate. He was not sure how he should explain the missing invitation to his daughters— he could see how hurt they were which made him feel humiliated and embarrassed. Not that he could blame Mrs. Annie Dashwood, she was not to blame for this. _He believed his friendship with her and the three daughters still remained the same. That Norland now had a new heir, which further complicated things for Mr. Pratt and his daughters. Would his daughters understand and accept the change at Norland?_


	9. Defendere feminae

Robert Ferrars would not have worried for the missing Miss Margaret Dashwood—had it not been for the fact that his older brother grew worried after speaking to Miss Dashwood. Now he was hoping to receive some sort of information from Mrs. Grey about the missing girl.

"Mr. Ferrars, please have a sit. It is always an honor to have a Ferrars in my home. I am quite puzzled as to why your visit has remained unannounced it is quite distance to travel to St Mary's from the Province of New York." Mrs. Grey motioned towards a chair and smiled apolitically towards the married woman.

"Please forgive me for my unplanned visit, I hope you realize the urgency otherwise I would have inquired first. The Dashwood's youngest is still missing my brother requested me to help. He is much closer to the Dashwood's than I am."

Mrs. Grey let out a sigh. "That is certainly unfortunate, tell me how many days have the young girl been missing?"

"When my brother reached out to me she had been missing for a week." He explained as looked around the sitting room."

She twisted her hands in her lap. "Unfortunately, Mr. Ferrars I am as uninformed as you perhaps someone in the tavern or our inn will have the information that you seek."

"That is the best advice yet, let us hope, we will have a happier reason to meet next time. I do hope you will find Miss Margaret, I did not know her personally since she still is a young child. Judging by her older sisters and her mother I do not wish anything has happened to her. I will pray that you will find her."

* * *

As the regulars closed, Mr. Pratt precipitately fired, drawing an unsuccessful volley of return fire from the regulars.

"Men listen, I have received words from Mr. Morton's valet that he finally is willing to fight for our cause!" Mr. Jennings announced in a loud voice.

"Mr. Jennings, are you really certain we can trust someone like him?" asked Mr. Pratt.

"I understand your worry and concern, but remember Theodore used to be worker under servitude," inquired Mr. Warren.

"I for one still have my doubt-Theodore was that his name? I thought he was very loyal and proud towards his master." Mr. Adams stated.

"Yes, I even heard a rumor that said Theodore picked up Mr. Morton's bayonet as it fell out of his hand," continued Mr. Hancock.

"What should I tell this man? Don't we need all the men that we could get?," wondered Mr. Jennings.

"I tell you what Mr. Jennings, to ease everyone's worries why don't you try to arrange a meeting with this man suggested Mr. Revere. As the regulars finally closed within range, both sides opened fire. The colonists caused heavy casualties on the regulars, taking advantage of the enclosure to secure and fire off muskets. With this demoralizing bombardment of musket fire, the regulars withdrew in disorder, and the militia held their ground.

* * *

"Please stop fidgeting Lucy!" Nancy complained and raised an eyebrow.

"I can't help it, Nancy. Aren't you worried for your future like me?," asked Lucy oblivious.

"Even if I was Lucy, fidgeting will not improve the situation. If you truly are as worried as you claim to be I suggest you try to speak to widow Dashwood." The older sister advised.

Joe is finding the tranquil life at Combe Magna fairly comfortable. He is not required to help the workforce with their fishing. Instead his chores is said to be to help out with the modest subsistence farm that the Willoughby's use for their own livelihood. He is grateful for that, especially since he never had an opportunity to learn to swim.

Yet it puzzled him why the Willoughby son refused to help his parents out with the daily running of the farm and fishing.

 _Did he not care at all about his reputation or his future inheritance_? _Joe wondered this but he never spoke up about it, since he was a temporary worker he knew he easily could be let go..._

"I can't understand why the mistress hired a free man? She would not have a reason to, especially since this farm is small enough to be managed with the added help of their son," sighed a female worker.

"Do you really thing young master suddenly will be responsible?" asked a younger woman.

The Willoughby son seemed the exact opposite of the Ferrars sons he got to know. The young son seemed to take advantage of his privileged life at Combe Magna. Joe, saw parallels to John Dashwood's son Harry. His mother Fanny, already spoiled him and fussed over his health.

* * *

Louis was relieved to learn he was not required to remain at the Jennings corn plantation once the harvest was completed. They had planted the corn a month ago and he realized he probably should try to find some other place to earn some added income once the corn harvest was over in August which was a month away.

He still suffered from nightmares from the time he lived at the Barton Plantation. He knew, that sir John could not claim him back, especially since he reluctantly had arranged the sell of Louis to the colonist family Jennings. Louis was now very grateful and appreciative of his new life.

"Louis it is strange that neither I nor my wife ever heard you complain about your chores!"

"Why would I? Life at your corn farm is much nicer than at the Barton rice plantation."

"Excuse me sir, I am searching for information about a young Philadelphia girl that has run away from home."

"Sorry sir, I havn't serviced anyone from Pennsylvania. I would remember if I had. My late wife was a native of Philadelphia herself and I know the Philadelphia dialect by heart."

Meanwhile Robert Ferrars, had just left the St Mary's Inn and was now on his way to the St Mary's tavern. He was confused as to why young Miss Margaret still had not returned home. It was clear that she was nowhere near Philadelphia, New York or Wethersfield or else they would have no reason to worry. But what could have happened to her?

"Godday mam', I wonder if there is any chance that a young girl by the name of Miss Dashwood, Margaret has been seen around here?" He asked and smiled nervously.

* * *

The retreat of much of the colonial armed forces from the peninsula was made possible by the meticulous evacuation of the armies along the barrier boundary, led by Pratt and Jennings which prevented the encirclement of the hill. Their disciplined retreat it was even covered with bravery and military skill, was so effective that most of the wounded were saved; most of the prisoners taken by the British were mortally wounded.

General Putnam attempted to reform the troops on Bunker Hill; however the voyage of the colonial forces was so prompt that weaponry pieces and ensconcing tools had to be abandoned. The colonists suffered most of their fatalities during the withdrawal on Bunker Hill.

By 5 p.m., the colonists had recoiled over the Charlestown Neck to strengthened positions in Cambridge, and the British were left in full control of the peninsula.

"Theodore, I understand you were loyal towards Mr Morton and served him till his death. It would be an honor for us if you considered giving the British army the same loyalty. We need someone to act as a spy that easily blends in with the op2posing side.

"I understand, Major Pitcairn, and it would be an honor for me to be of use to the British Crown-especially now after my planter's death.

"Please Theodore, I'd rather have you think about this for a while before decide. The mission may suit you-should your true alliance be discovered you risk losing your life."

"Again, Major Pitcairn I do understand. If I could be of any use, then I prefer to help whatever the consequences. No need to worry about my loved ones besides Mr. Morton I have nobody else."

"Alright, then, Theodore, you are to report back to me or either General Howe or General Graves. Tell nobody else, I hope you understand."

Howe led the light infantry companies and grenadiers in the attack on the American left line, supposing a laidback struggle against Stark's troops. His minor infantry were fixed along the thin beach which enabled them to turn the far left side of the colonial position. The grenadiers were positioned in the middle. They aligned four deep and several hundred across.

As the days turned in to weeks without any news from Edward or Robert about her youngest. Mrs. Dashwood was beside herself with worry— what could have happened to her daughter? What would cause her to be missing for such a long amount of time? Something or someone was suspected of her disappearance — she could not be missing deliberately it implied that she had gone missing off her own free will. Mrs. Dashwood knew her youngest was headstrong but she would never deliberately cause her sisters or for that matter her mother reason to worry. No, Miss Margaret's disappearance must be considered foul play.

* * *

"Fanny,dear I beg you to reconsider—do you not have a conscious or a heart? How can you expect mother to remarry at a time like this? My sister is still missing and now you want us out of Norland? Moving out of state is not only a big endeavor but also rather inconvenient. I dare say I doubt John would have approved of this."

"Dear Elinor, of course I don't expect your mother to remarry instantaneously dear! I am worried for your future, for all the four of you. Your father's death was certainly not expected by me. I see no harm in your mother meeting Mr .MacTavish."

"Forgive me Fanny, if I am not mistaken you give the impression that Mr. MacTavish already has been invited."

"Please ,Elinor, do not cause a scene I took the freedom to extend an invitation to Mr. MacTavish. Knowing all too well that correspondence between Philadelphia and Providence can take its time. Relax Elinor, it is only for a dinner — I invited him to the annual harvest festival. Your mother's cousin John praised him."

"MacTavish would that be the Scottish MacTavish by any chance?"

"The very same. Mr. MacTavish is a widower himself—father of two young ones. He is greatly acclaimed for the British army's victory at Lexington. His age is also agreeable with your mother's."

Marianne missed her father tremendously yet the knowledge of a future invitation to Allenham, not surprisingly eased her pain considerably. She was finally able to stop crying herself to sleep. After all who could be upset at the prospects of visiting the Smith's grand Allenham farm? Perhaps she even would be fortunate enough to receive an invitation from the Smith's heir and son.

Robert Ferrars sighed he was beginning to suspect Miss Margaret either was the victim of foul play or had left Philadelphia on her own accord. He had inquired at St Mary's tavern and the inn with similar result. He seemed to have no choice but continue with his search. He was hoping someone in Delaware or New Hampshire would have the information that he sought. Otherwise he knew he would have to extend his search to Delaware, Virginia and North Carolina maybe even the entire New England region. Wise from his previous visit at the Grey's in St Mary's Robert decided to author a letter to the Pratts in Delaware.

 _To Mr. Pratt._

 _My brother Edward asked me to help him in the search for young Miss Margaret on behalf of the Dashwood's in Philadelphia. I was hoping that you would have received some information about Miss Margaret's whereabouts by the time this letter reaches you._

 _Sincerely Robert Ferrars_

* * *

"Mr. Xanders, have you heard anything about young Miss Margaret's whereabouts?"

"No, sir I havn't Mr. Pratt."

"Just because you havn't it doesn't mean someone else on my property has not. Be sure to ask the current workforce. I hope you will manage that simple task."

"Amy, I want to ask you something."

"No please Mr. Xanders, I 'aven't done no wrong."

"All Mr. Pratt wants to know is if you happened to hear anything about Miss Margaret Dashwood's disappearance."

"No, Mr. Xanders I 'ave not."

 _The news of Miss Margaret's sudden disappearance was unsettling for her. If Margaret Dashwood had been missing for three weeks Amy assumed it either was from foul play or a deliberate disappearance. She suspected that foul play was behind it. She hoped nothing had happened to her girls. Although she was preparing for the worst..._


	10. Magna solvitis

As Amy worried and wondered over her two daughters, another daughter had secretly arrived in the state of North Carolina. It was the youngest Dashwood daughter that had arrived in the darkest hours of the night the day before. She remembered how loyal friends the Jennings and her late father used to be. She was hoping that the same loyalty would be extended toher. Margaret lowered her voice."Dearest Mrs Jennings, I did not know where else to go… I was hoping you would provide me and my husband with a place to stay and rest," Margaret said in calm voice.

Mrs Jennings was a peculiar woman; she believed that people should follow their heart's voices. Above all, she believed in love and even though her marriage was arranged, she doubted that such arrangements created lasting bonds and happiness.

She answered with a smile. "Of course I will, dear."

Margaret looked around her shoulder and lowered her voice. "It is important that you do not let anyone know that we were here. Since Father's death, I have dreaded marrying a British Loyalist. That's why I decided to take the matter in my own two hands."

The older woman struggled to contain a laugh, even though the situation was extremely delicate. "Dear child, no need to explain further. Am I not a colonist myself? You are worried that would happen, which I understand. Especially since your sister-in-law, Fanny, is the daughter of the Loyalist Ferrars family. Not to worry dear, you and your husband have my silence."

She motioned towards a young man. "Mrs Jennings, please meet my husband Mr. Malachi O'Shenessy."

Malachi was quick to answer in his native tongue—Irish Gealic. "Tá áthas orm bualadh leat. Nach dtomhaisfidh tú m'ainm?"

Mrs Jennings smiled."I must confess, it is nice to see one of late Dashwood's daughters marrying an Irish patriot."

She raised her voice impulsively. "Is it not,Mrs Jennings? I just couldn't live with myself otherwise. To be married to a British Loyalist or even my mother's cousin Middleton would have Father turning in his grave."

The older woman nodded in encouragement. "You did right, Margaret, I am proud of you."

She looked nervously at the older woman. "I know that neither Elinor nor Marianne has received any promises of marriage yet. Knowing Fanny, I still didn't want to assume she wouldn't have arranged a marriage to a British Loyalist—as soon as I was out, of course."

"Now, Mrs O'Shenessy, do your husband have any plans on where you are to settle down?" the older woman inquired with a a steady voice,

She smiled and nodded. "Knowing Mr O'Shenessy, he would prefer to continue on to York, Maine since many Irish patriots has settled there."

The older woman carefully began to speak. "I know it's not my place to ask. Please forgive me for my manners,Mr O'Shenessy."

She gave Mrs Jennings a varm look. "Mrs Jennings, are you not a colonist like Father was? Of course, my husband and I will let you know where we choice to settle down."

* * *

Meanwhile, Robert Ferrars was just about to leave Delaware for New Jersey and Virginia.

"Excuse me, I wonder if anyone has seen a fourteen-year-old girl in the vicinity?"

The innkeeper scratched his head. "No. Sorry, sir, we have not had a family with daughters at our inn for very long."

"I see. It is believed that this girl may have come unchaperoned." Robert explained, his worry increasing as he did.

The innkeeper began to scrutinize his log. "Oh heavens, that I would have remembered! If you would be so kind to describe the young girl's physical appearance, we will let you know if or when someone does."

He cleared his voice. "I believe she is very petite, only five feet tall, with orange curly hair, grey eyes and freckles."

Robert was for once relieved he was unmarried and not old enough to be the father to either son or daughter. He was beginning to grasp how worrisome it might be to try to raise a daughter. He knew his mother and sister expected him to father at least two sons.

As Captain Ferrars was about to greet the other man, he unconsciouslyreached into his pocket, only to discover a carefully folded letter, with a subtile scent of roses. He knew Elinor must have hid it in his pocket.

 _Dear Edward,_

 _Even though I am proud to learn of your military achievements in the battle of Bunker Hill, I do not want to believe that you share your family's strong loyalty towards the British Crown. With your father still missing, you are the head of your family and as such it is your privilege and a right to take a firm stand in the conflict between the British and the Colonists. I believe you not only are brave but intelligent too. I refuse to believe you would have sided with the British unless you were a Ferrars heir. I do not expect you to suddenly switch sides—all I want, dear Edward, is for you to take a stand for what you, Edward Ferrars, believe in. You. Not my brother or your sister, but you. [punct] I was proud to hear you insisted on Joe's liberation, and that is why I now question your true conviction. Are you living a life that you want your nephew Harry to live one day? Do you believe you are a good role model for him and for your future sons? Dear Edward, I thought I knew exactly what kind of person that you were. I thought you were a man that my late father would have liked to call a friend. This is not a letter that requires a reply—instead, use it as a guidance for your future and your life._

 _Sincerely_

 _Miss Elinor Dashwood_

* * *

As the Jennings were about to harvest their corn crop for the season, Louis knew he should start to seriously consider where his knife skills could be of most use. When the corn finally was harvested and sold, he knew it not only was possible but his responsibility to try to earn a living outside the Jennings farm—possibly even in another state.

He cleared his voice, then swallowed. "Mrs Jennings, I have thought about trying to find temporary work out of state. Do you think you could be so kindto tell me where my services would be of the most use?"

"Well, Louis, if you just want to move out of state, I suggest Virginia, Delaware or Maryland." Mrs Jennings looked into the distance as he looked into the distance, hesitating before speaking again. "If you are looking for a state that might be willing to pay a bit extra for your excellent knife skills, then I suppose New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut or Rhode Island would do."

Louis lifted off his hat and smiled."Thank you kindly, Mrs Jennings."

He quickly decided he would try to get himself to Richmond, Virginia, then Delaware and Maryland. But only if he would have time on his side and depending on how high the demand was for his services. If the corn harvest was sold for a good price, he might be able to get New Hampshire, Connecticut or Rhode Island.

* * *

Louis decided he would try to sell some of his crafts since the Jennings said his services were not needed until another corn crop was to be harvested. It suited Louis well; he knew he was not free, yet he enjoyed more freedom with the Jennings. Now, he had his sights set on Norland.

Ever since hearing that the Norland Plantation was run exactly as the Jennings, he knew what to expect. A few days earlier, he had arrived in Pennsylvania and he would waste no time on waiting. He was heading straight to Norland on an empty stomach.

Louis noticed a cute girl, then whistled and smiled. As he got closer to the young girl, he lifted of his hat. "Morning, miss I 'onder if ya would be interested in seein' some of ma craft?"

Lucy glared at the man and gave him a condescending look."No, sir I don't think so. We don' want the likes of you here."

He nervously wet his lips and offered a vague smile. "Sorry, miss but you wouldn't have some leftovers to spare?"

She looked impatiently at the poorly dressed man, put her hands on her hips and began tapping her shoe.'"Am afraid 'not sir. Please leave right now."

When Lucy later retold the meeting with the strange man, Nancy was horrified to hear of how her younger sister had behaved towards one of their own.

"Lucy, please say you were joking. If Mama was here now, she would spank you!" exclaimed the older sister.

"But, Nancy, you never saw him! He was dirty, smelly and had no shoes." Protested Lucy.

"Why didn't ya tell Planter's widow he was here? She would have given him a pair of shoes and somethin' to eat. Perhaps also new clean clothes," reprimanded Nancy.

"Why don't ya go to visit him? He said he would stay within the state."

"It sounds like I should have to," declared the older sister.

* * *

Mrs Dashwood was disappointed over the news of a new husband so soon after her late husband. She knew it would have to happen eventually. If her stepson John were around, she assumed her remarriage would not have been arranged so soon. She was still worried for her youngest daughter, Margaret, who still had not been found. Instead, her daughter-in-law insisted she and her two daughters meet a Scottish Loyalist that her cousin John had praised. Naturally, her stepson and daughter-in-law wanted her to move out of the Norland Plantation. She understood that it was John's kindness that enabled them to continue living on her late husband's estate. Annie hoped Marianne would not cause a scene and that Elinor would not appear too distant and detached. Soon the annual harvest festival celebration would commence —this time, with Mr MacTavish as a specially invited guest.

Mr MacTavish gracefully climbed off his horse. He looked at Mrs Fanny Dashwood, and then reached for Mrs Annie Dashwood's hand. "Ah, Dowager Dashwood, allow me to extend my deepest sympathies!"

She reached for her hand and and gave a vague smile as she curtsied."It's nice to make your acquaintance, Mr MacTavish. I hear my cousin Sir John speaks very fondly of you. I only wish we could have met under a more happy occasion."

Fanny nodded in approval. "Mr MacTavish, welcome to Norland. Allow me to introduce you to my husband's sisters: Miss Dashwood and Miss Marianne."

Elinor curtsied deep. "Nice to meet you, Mr MacTavish."

Marianne looked at her older sister before she too curtsied. "Tell me, Mr MacTavish, is it true? Are you a widower too?" For Marianne, even though she worried for her youngest sister, she was confident Robert would find her. She wanted 1775 to come to an end so that it would be Easter soon. She could not contain her joy over visiting Allenham with Elinor.

Fanny raised an eyebrow, and Marianne's mother gave an apologetic smile. Elinor quickly took Marianne by the arm and led her back inside.

"Dinner is soon served. I see my husband's sisters have decided to finish the preparations." Fanny continued with a smile. As the Dashwoods and Norland was preparing for the annual harvest celebration dinner, Theodore agreed to meet the doubting colonists and militiamen.

Theodore looked at the militiamen and the colonists that had gathered on a hill. "I understand you wish to see me personally. I am not offended by your request. Is it anything in particular you wish to know about me?"

"No disrespect meant, Theodore, but other than you being Mr Morton's personal valet, we want to know what personal interest you have in this fight. I for one always assumed you would be the last person to change sides."

"Before my master Mr Morton died, I swore to protect his life and honor with my own. Mr Morton's reputation and honor have been restored, now I believe the quickest way for indentured servants to gain liberation is to side with the patriots," explained Theodore in a serious voice. As Theodore declared his changed convictictions. Monsigneur Yvon had failed to reach his brother-in-law's Delaford farm. His worry was beginning to grow. He had not been able to look in on Lt. Colonel Brandon's estate before the Battle of Lexington and Concord when the British sieged the town of Boston. On a road leading to Delaford, Monsignuer Yvon discovered a gentleman's white powdered wig…

Robert would have been relieved if he managed to find so much as a wig—if that once had belonged to Miss Margaret Dashwood. He had just left the Morton's estate and was now on his way to Virginia. Still, his efforts in search of Miss Margaret had been fruitless…

Perhaps Margaret had deliberately gone missing without the desire of ever being found…

Robert's serious face broke into relief and he accomplished a faint smile. "Evening, Mrs Smith I hate to bother you but I wonder if you by any chance has seen a fourteen-year-old girl pass through?"

"Mr Robert Ferrars, is it? As a matter of fact, I do believe I have seen someone that could match your description." Mrs Smith answered in a polite voice. "I doubt she is still in Virginia, though."


	11. Adulationis el tolerantur

As Amy worried and wondered over her two daughters, another daughter had secretly arrived in the state of North Carolina. It was the youngest Dashwood daughter that had arrived in the darkest hours of the night the day before. She remembered how loyal friends the Jennings and her late father used to be. She was hoping that the same loyalty would be extended to her. Margaret lowered her voice."Dearest Mrs. Jennings, I did not know where else to go… I was hoping you would provide me and my husband with a place to stay and rest," Margaret said in calm voice.

Mrs. Jennings was a peculiar woman; she believed that people should follow their heart's voices. Above all, she believed in love and even though her marriage was arranged, she doubted that such arrangements created lasting bonds and happiness.

She answered with a smile. "Of course I will, dear."

Margaret looked around her shoulder and lowered her voice. "It is important that you do not let anyone know that we were here. Since Father's death, I have dreaded marrying a British Loyalist. That's why I decided to take the matter in my own two hands."

The older woman struggled to contain a laugh, even though the situation was extremely delicate. "Dear child, no need to explain further. Am I not a colonist myself? You are worried that would happen, which I understand. Especially since your sister-in-law, Fanny, is the daughter of the Loyalist Ferrars family. Not to worry dear, you and your husband have my silence."

She motioned towards a young man. "Mrs Jennings, please meet my husband Mr. Malachi O'Shenessy."

Malachi was quick to answer in his native tongue—Irish Gealic. "Tá áthas orm bualadh leat. Nach dtomhaisfidh tú m'ainm?"

Mrs. Jennings smiled. "I must confess, it is nice to see one of late Dashwood's daughters marrying an Irish patriot."

She raised her voice impulsively. "Is it not,Mrs. Jennings? I just couldn't live with myself otherwise. To be married to a British Loyalist or even my mother's cousin Middleton would have Father turning in his grave."

The older woman nodded in encouragement. "You did right, Margaret, I am proud of you."

She looked nervously at the older woman. "I know that neither Elinor nor Marianne has received any promises of marriage yet. Knowing Fanny, I still didn't want to assume she wouldn't have arranged a marriage to a British Loyalist—as soon as I was out, of course."

"Now, Mrs. O'Shenessy, do your husband have any plans on where you are to settle down?," the older woman inquired with a steady voice,

She smiled and nodded. "Knowing Mr. O'Shenessy, he would prefer to continue on to York, Maine since many Irish patriots has settled there."

The older woman carefully began to speak. "I know it's not my place to ask. Please forgive me for my manners,Mr. O'Shenessy."

She gave Mrs. Jennings a varm look. "Mrs. Jennings, are you not a colonist like Father was? Of course, my husband and I will let you know where we choice to settle down."

Meanwhile, Robert Ferrars was just about to leave Delaware for New Jersey and Virginia.

"Excuse me, I wonder if anyone has seen a fourteen-year-old girl in the vicinity?"

The innkeeper scratched his head. "No. Sorry, sir, we have not had a family with daughters at our inn for very long."

"I see. It is believed that this girl may have come unchaperoned," Robert explained, his worry increasing as he did.

The innkeeper began to scrutinize his log. "Oh heavens, that I would have remembered! If you would be so kind to describe the young girl's physical appearance, we will let you know if or when someone does."

He cleared his voice. "I believe she is very petite, only five feet tall, with orange curly hair, grey eyes and freckles."

Robert was for once relieved he was unmarried and not old enough to be the father to either son or daughter. He was beginning to grasp how worrisome it might be to try to raise a daughter. He knew his mother and sister expected him to father at least two sons.

As Captain Ferrars was about to greet the other man, he unconsciously reached into his pocket, only to discover a carefully folded letter, with a subtle scent of roses. He knew Elinor must have hid it in his pocket.

 _Dear Edward,_

 _Even though I am proud to learn of your military achievements in the battle of Bunker Hill, I do not want to believe that you share your family's strong loyalty towards the British Crown. With your father still missing, you are the head of your family and as such it is your privilege and a right to take a firm stand in the conflict between the British and the Colonists. I believe you not only are brave but intelligent too. I refuse to believe you would have sided with the British unless you were a Ferrars heir. I do not expect you to suddenly switch sides—all I want, dear Edward, is for you to take a stand for what you, Edward Ferrars, believe in. You. Not my brother or your sister, but you. [punct] I was proud to hear you insisted on Joe's liberation, and that is why I now question your true conviction. Are you living a life that you want your nephew Harry to live one day? Do you believe you are a good role model for him and for your future sons? Dear Edward, I thought I knew exactly what kind of person that you were. I thought you were a man that my late father would have liked to call a friend. This is not a letter that requires a reply—instead, use it as a guidance for your future and your life._

 _Sincerely_

 _Miss Elinor Dashwood_

* * *

As the Jennings were about to harvest their corn crop for the season, Louis knew he should start to seriously consider where his knife skills could be of most use. When the corn finally was harvested and sold, he knew it not only was possible but his responsibility to try to earn a living outside the Jennings farm—possibly even in another state.

He cleared his voice, then swallowed. "Mrs. Jennings, I have thought about trying to find temporary work out of state. Do you think you could be so kindto tell me where my services would be of the most use?"

"Well, Louis, if you just want to move out of state, I suggest Virginia, Delaware or Maryland." Mrs. Jennings looked into the distance as he looked into the distance, hesitating before speaking again. "If you are looking for a state that might be willing to pay a bit extra for your excellent knife skills, then I suppose New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut or Rhode Island would do."

Louis lifted off his hat and smiled." Thank you kindly, Mrs. Jennings."

He quickly decided he would try to get himself to Richmond, Virginia, then Delaware and Maryland. But only if he would have time on his side and depending on how high the demand was for his services. If the corn harvest was sold for a good price, he might be able to get New Hampshire, Connecticut or Rhode Island.

Louis decided he would try to sell some of his crafts since the Jennings said his services were not needed until another corn crop was to be harvested. It suited Louis well; he knew he was not free, yet he enjoyed more freedom with the Jennings. Now, he had his sights set on Norland.

Ever since hearing that the Norland Plantation was run exactly as the Jennings, he knew what to expect. A few days earlier, he had arrived in Pennsylvania and he would waste no time on waiting. He was heading straight to Norland on an empty stomach.

Louis noticed a cute girl, then whistled and smiled. As he got closer to the young girl, he lifted of his hat. "Morning, miss I 'onder if ya would be interested in seein' some of ma craft?"

Lucy glared at the man and gave him a condescending look."No, sir I don't think so. We don' want the likes of you here."

He nervously wet his lips and offered a vague smile. "Sorry, miss but you wouldn't have some leftovers to spare?"

She looked impatiently at the poorly dressed man, put her hands on her hips and began tapping her shoe.'"Am afraid 'not sir. Please leave right now."

When Lucy later retold the meeting with the strange man, Nancy was horrified to hear of how her younger sister had behaved towards one of their own.

"Lucy, please say you were joking. If Mama was here now, she would spank you!" exclaimed the older sister.

"But, Nancy, you never saw him! He was dirty, smelly and had no shoes," protested Lucy.

"Why didn't ya tell Planter's widow he was here? She would have given him a pair of shoes and somethin' to eat. Perhaps also new clean clothes," reprimanded Nancy.

"Why don't ya go to visit him? He said he would stay within the state."

"It sounds like I should have to," declared the older sister.

* * *

Mrs. Dashwood was disappointed over the news of a new husband so soon after her late husband. She knew it would have to happen eventually. If her stepson John were around, she assumed her remarriage would not have been arranged so soon. She was still worried for her youngest daughter, Margaret, who still had not been found. Instead, her daughter-in-law insisted she and her two daughters meet a Scottish Loyalist that her cousin John had praised. Naturally, her stepson and daughter-in-law wanted her to move out of the Norland Plantation. She understood that it was John's kindness that enabled them to continue living on her late husband's estate. Annie hoped Marianne would not cause a scene and that Elinor would not appear too distant and detached. Soon the annual harvest festival celebration would commence —this time, with Mr. MacTavish as a specially invited guest.

Mr. MacTavish gracefully climbed off his horse. He looked at Mrs. Fanny Dashwood, and then reached for Mrs. Annie Dashwood's hand. "Ah, Dowager Dashwood, allow me to extend my deepest sympathies!"

She reached for her hand and gave a vague smile as she curtsied. "It's nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. MacTavish. I hear my cousin Sir John speaks very fondly of you. I only wish we could have met under a more happy occasion."

Fanny nodded in approval. "Mr. MacTavish, welcome to Norland. Allow me to introduce you to my husband's sisters: Miss Dashwood and Miss Marianne."

Elinor curtsied deep. "Nice to meet you, Mr. MacTavish."

Marianne looked at her older sister before she too curtsied. "Tell me, Mr. MacTavish, is it true? Are you a widower too?" For Marianne, even though she worried for her youngest sister, she was confident Robert would find her. She wanted 1775 to come to an end so that it would be Easter soon. She could not contain her joy over visiting Allenham with Elinor.

Fanny raised an eyebrow, and Marianne's mother gave an apologetic smile. Elinor quickly took Marianne by the arm and led her back inside.

"Dinner is soon served. I see my husband's sisters have decided to finish the preparations." Fanny continued with a smile. As the Dashwood's and Norland was preparing for the annual harvest celebration dinner, Theodore agreed to meet the doubting colonists and militiamen.

Theodore looked at the militiamen and the colonists that had gathered on a hill. "I understand you wish to see me personally. I am not offended by your request. Is it anything in particular you wish to know about me?"

"No disrespect meant, Theodore, but other than you being Mr. Morton's personal valet, we want to know what personal interest you have in this fight. I for one always assumed you would be the last person to change sides."

"Before my master Mr. Morton died, I swore to protect his life and honor with my own. Mr. Morton's reputation and honor have been restored, now I believe the quickest way for indentured servants to gain liberation is to side with the patriots," explained Theodore in a serious voice. As Theodore declared his changed convictions Monsigneur Yvon had failed to reach his brother-in-law's Delaford farm. His worry was beginning to grow. He had not been able to look in on Lt. Colonel Brandon's estate before the Battle of Lexington and Concord when the British sieged the town of Boston. On a road leading to Delaford, Monsignuer Yvon discovered a gentleman's white powdered wig…

Robert would have been relieved if he managed to find so much as a wig—if that once had belonged to Miss Margaret Dashwood. He had just left the Morton's estate and was now on his way to Virginia. Still, his efforts in search of Miss Margaret had been fruitless…

Perhaps Margaret had deliberately gone missing without the desire of ever being found…

Robert's serious face broke into relief and he accomplished a faint smile. "Evening, Mrs. Smith I hate to bother you but I wonder if you by any chance has seen a fourteen-year-old girl pass through?"

"Mr. Robert Ferrars, is it? As a matter of fact, I do believe I have seen someone that could match your description." Mrs. Smith answered in a polite voice. "I doubt she is still in Virginia, though


	12. Affectio seu cupiditas

Louis was relieved to learn he was not required to remain at the Jennings corn plantation once the harvest was completed. They had planted the corn a month ago and he realized he probably should try to find some other place to earn some added income once the corn harvest was over in August, which was a month away.

He still suffered from nightmares from the time he lived at the Barton Plantation. _He knew that sir John could not reclaim him, especially since he reluctantly had arranged the sale of Louis to the colonist family Jennings. Louis was now very grateful and appreciative of his new life._

"Louis, it is strange that neither I nor my wife ever heard you complain about your chores!"

"Why would I? Life at your corn farm is much nicer than at the Barton rice plantation."

As the Jennings begins to appreciate Louis for his strong work ethic and loyalty, Robert Ferrars had just left the St Mary's Inn and was on his way to the St Mary's tavern. He was confused as to why young Miss Margaret still had not returned home. It was clear that she was nowhere near Philadelphia, New York or Wethersfield, or they would have no reason to worry. But what could have happened to her?

"Excuse me, sir, I am searching for information about a young Philadelphia girl that has run away from home?"Robert cleared his throat and waited for an answer.

"Sorry sir, I havn't serviced anyone from Pennsylvania. I would remember if I had. My late wife was a native of Philadelphia herself and I know the Philadelphia dialect by heart," the innkeeper said as he scratched his head and looked around the room.

"Good day, ma'am. I wonder if there is any chance that a young girl by the name of Miss Dashwood—Margaret—has been seen around here?" he asked, smiling nervously.

* * *

The retreat of much of the colonial armed forces from the peninsula was made possible by the meticulous evacuation of the armies along the barrier boundary led by Pratt and Jennings which prevented the encirclement of the hill. Their disciplined retreat was evenly covered with bravery and military skill, and therefore was so effective that most of the wounded were saved; most of the prisoners taken by the British were mortally wounded.

General Putnam attempted to reform the troops on Bunker Hill; however, the voyage of the colonial forces was so prompt that weaponry pieces and ensconcing tools had to be abandoned. The colonists suffered most of their fatalities during the withdrawal on Bunker Hill.

By 5 p.m., the colonists had retreated over the Charlestown Neck to strengthened positions in Cambridge, and the British were left in full control of the peninsula.

"Theodore, I understand you were loyal towards Mr . Morton and served him till his death. It would be an honor for us if you considered giving the British army the same loyalty. We need someone to act as a spy that easily blends in with the opposing side.

"I understand, Major Pitcairn, and it would be an honor for me to be of use to the British Crown—especially now, after my planter's death."

"Please, Theodore, I'd rather have you think about this for a while before you decide. The mission may suit you—should your true alliance be discovered, you risk losing your life."

"Again, Major Pitcairn, I do understand. If I could be of any use, then I prefer to help whatever the consequences. No need to worry about my loved ones—besides Mr . Morton, I have nobody else."

"Alright, then, Theodore, you are to report back to me or either General Howe or General Graves. Tell nobody else. I hope you understand."

Howe led the light infantry companies and grenadiers in the attack on the American left line, supposing a laidback struggle against Stark's troops. His minor infantry were fixed along the thin beach which enabled them to turn the far left side of the colonial position. The grenadiers were positioned in the middle. They aligned four deep and several hundred across.

* * *

Back in the Province of New York, Mr . Brandon had finally mustered enough courage to set off to Boston Massachusetts. Hopefully his younger brother would be found alive… Poor Eliza was left all alone on the day when the British forces finally decided to withdraw their troops from Boston, thereby ending the several month long siege. As for Eliza, she was relieved to hear the news, especially since she was heavily pregnant by now and was expected to give birth any day now. Fortunately Mr . Brandon was one of the first people to arrive to the reopened road to Boston. By that time, Eliza's labor had already started and she was alone and afraid—afraid both for her baby and to lose her life—that her own mother had sixteen years ago while giving birth to her. She was afraid she would not be able to love the unborn child. She feared it would remind her of its father. She hoped the baby—her baby—would be born as a daughter. As her belly had continued to grow her only prayers were that she would survive the birth and that her child would be born healthy and alive…She knew she would love the child unconditionally regardless of its gender. She would do her very best to compensate for the father's failure and ultimate lack of responsibility and presence in her life. She did not need him any longer; she did not want him in her baby's life. If her mother managed to raise her on her own she could do the same.

Mr . Brandon could soon hear the desperate cries from a woman in despair. The cries came from the Delaford Estate. Mr . Brandon quickly ushered his horse to led him up the hill to Delaford.


	13. Restitutio Naturalium

Surprised, Robert found a piece of paper in his pocket on the first night when he arrived in Virginia.

" _If it's Margaret Dashwood that you seek, you should know that the person you are searching for no longer answers to the surname Dashwood. The man you search who hold the answers is said to reside in the province of Maine_."

This information worried Robert a great deal. _Why on earth would Miss Margaret Dashwood go around pretending to be someone she wasn't... And an Irish name at that, unless she had run away from home to be married without her family's consent or blessing..._ Now it all made sense to him, he would have to travel the long distance from Virginia to the Province of Maine—a journey he did not look forward to. But he had made a promise to his brother and he always kept promises he made towards his friends or family. He could not return without news of the missing Margaret Dashwood, could he? Honestly, Robert was unsure if he could trust a stranger's word, but he had been away searching for the youngest for more than four months now. He was tired; _if it was true Margaret was married now, he would do his best to dissolve the union between Margaret and the unknown Irish man... Yet he hoped the information was false and nothing but a rumor._

* * *

Back at Delaford, William Brandon was finally able to enter into Boston as the Massachusetts militia set sail and one hundred and twenty ships withdrew from the Boston harbor. William draw a sigh of relief as he noticed the silhouettes from the troops getting smaller from a nearby window. He attempted to count the men. Once he realized the people exceeded one thousand, he was satisfied with that and resumed what he was doing.

He hurried his steps, guided by agonized screams of a young woman. He sighed and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. He hoped his aid would not be in vain and that by assisting in the young woman's childbirth the debt he had to his brother would be paid.

William Brandon was no fool; he knew how much the young woman meant to his brother. To most people, the young woman was not worth much; she may have been born free but she would always be a mulatto woman—closer to the Blacks than White, almost White but not completely.

Eliza Williams was as close to his brother as if she had been a sister and it was no secret that she was treated as the mistress of Delaford. His brother would be absolutely devastated if he was to lose another woman. William closed his eyes, fearing that his younger brother never would forgive him and disown him once again for good this time.

"You came, Brandon. You came for me. I knew you would," whispered Eliza and gave a faint smile as she lay on the floor.

"Hush now, Miss Williams, save your strength. All will be well, you have my word." He bent down and tucked the blanket around her. Without taking his eyes off the young woman, he looked around to see if there was boiling water somewhere. There was not any. He quickly got up on his feet.

"Please... if anything happens to me, promise me you'll save my child. Promise me."

"As you should, Miss Williams," he said tenderly.

"Brandon, please... before you left, we were on a first-name basis, were we not?," asked the young woman delirious from pain.

"Forgive me, Eliza. How could I forget..."

"You have my word, Eliza. My brother would kill me if I let anything happen to you..." _He was not the woman that Eliza needed. What did he know of labor pains or childbirth? Not much, he admitted to himself. Not unless you counted you counted the times he had witnessed horses giving birth. But Eliza was not a horse; she was a young woman in distress._ He smiled vaguely towards the young woman, not wanting to let it be known how inexperienced he was on the subject. He closed his eyes and drew a breath, attempting to ignore exactly how alone and desperate that he too was.

* * *

Meanwhile at Norland, Fanny Dashwood smiled to herself. She may have entered her confinement, yet that did not mean she still could not control what happened at Norland. She was quiet pleased with herself. Mrs. Dashwood would be married to Mr . MacTavish once Miss Dashwood and Miss Marianne had left to visit Mr . Smith's estate Allenham back in New Jersey. Dowager Dashwood did not look forward to remarrying someone else, yet she had accepted her fate. She would not cause a problem for Fanny nor Mr . MacTavish. For a marriage to be legally binding, it had to be held in the presence of two witnesses. Fanny worried that Dowager Dashwood's two daughters would object to their mother's remarriage. Therefore she had arranged for Mr . MacTavish and his children to arrive at Norland, the day after Elinor and Marianne had left. That way there would be nobody there to object to Dowager Dashwood becoming the new Mrs . MacTavish—nobody around to stop Dowager Dashwood's move to Providence, Rhode Island, the place of the MacTavish residence.

"Oh, please, Elinor, cheer up. Aren't you elated to finally be visiting Allenham at last?," asked Marianne as she twirled around the room.

"Marianne, dearest, don't you think I know—the reason that I was invited to go with you to Allenham was to act as your female chaperone more so than your sister," Elinor slowly said in reprimanding tone.

"Nonsense, Elinor. How can you think I would be so cruel? To my own sister at that," giggled Marianne and held the new dress in front of window.

"Marianne, honestly, aren't you the least worried for our mother when we're gone at Allenhams,?" asked Elinor worriedly.

"Elinor, are you implying that mother somehow would be married to that—that Mr . MacTavish while we're gone?," wondered Marianne while she raised an eyebrow.

"Nobody is that cruel, not even Fanny. Besides a marriage needs to be held in the presence of two witnesses to be legally binding. So no, Elinor I am not worried. Please try to relax and try to enjoy yourself—if not for your sake, do it for me. Please, Elinor," begged Marianne.

Elinor sighed and realized her words were falling on deaf ears ; nothing or nobody could prevent her sister from the nearing visit to Allenham. Elinor knew Mr. MacTavish, a widower from Rhode Island, had two children—a son and a daughter. They were both in desperate need for female attention only a mother could provide. Would her own mother be that woman? Both Fanny and Mr . MacTavish had acted as if her mother would be the one to replace the late Mrs . MacTavish and be a stepmother to Mr . MacTavish's young children. Elinor hoped her intuition had failed her—yet she feared that once she returned back from Allenham with her sister it was to prepare to move to Providence, Rhode Island.

She knew Fanny would attempt anything to get her mother out of the way and away from Norland once and for all. _If Marianne had not been so transparent with her infatuation in Mr . Smith, she was certain her sister would be as worried as she was—perhaps even more._

Willoughby had not thought about the beautiful young girl for many months now. It had taken all his strength to be as careful as he normally was. This time he was worried that their tête-à-tête had resulted in an out-of-wedlock child. Yet he had not received any news from Boston for the last seven months... Perhaps it only was his guilty conscience that was trying to remind him to be even more careful this time around. He knew exactly how his aunt Mrs. Smith felt about love affairs and he knew that she would be the first offer marriage to a woman he had made with child.

He was apologetic now towards Eliza, whose beauty had bewitched him. He tried to convince himself that he would have offered her his hand in marriage if she had not been the daughter of a liberated slave woman. That was then and now was now—true to his word, he had persuaded his aunt to send invitation to the Misses Dashwood's to visit the estate at Easter. The oldest Miss Dashwood did not interest him she had the countenance of refined beauty, yet her manners were so confined that he thought she appeared callous. _The second Miss Dashwood, he admitted, he had been indifferent to at first. Marianne was the opposite of her older sister: her beauty was dark and exotic and she was obvious and blunt with her own feelings and how she felt about anyone or anything. That puzzled Willoughby. That meant he needed an excuse to become better acquainted with Miss Marianne Dashwood..._

* * *

Eliza's child was born after a several hours long delivery; it couldn't have been done without him.

By doing so, William was able to fulfill his debt to his younger brother while also keeping the promise to a woman his brother loved more than his own life. The child was healthy and strong, judging by the strong screams as he was born. Now he was resting in its mother's arm wrapped in a blanket. Both mother and child were soundly asleep. At dawn, William wondered if it was not time for him to leave... There was nothing left for him to do. He sighed as he realized that he would have to travel back to where he came from or possibly sign up to join the war—as his own brother was rumored to have done.

Yet William did not want to leave the new mother and the newborn all alone...

Eliza slowly woke up. "William, is she well?" She could not believe she was a mother. Willoughby had given her a child. Yet now, she did not want him to know that he was in fact the father of her child. She was born free, yet if the father of her child was made aware of its existence, they could come and take her child away from her.

"Promise me you won't let the child's father know," continued Eliza in low voice filled with love.

"I promise you, Eliza, I think you must think of another name, for I have never heard of a boy called Beth, I think you must think of another name, for I have never heard of a boy called Beth," William slowly said without taking his eyes off the sleeping child.

He feared Eliza would become emotional and disappointed to learn the child she longed for, the daughter that she hoped for, was in fact a son.

"Now I am a mother, and son or daughter, this child was born free. If my child cannot be named Beth, then I would like Brandon as his first name and John after his father," Eliza said as she tended to her newborn son.

"Brandon, John, —those are all good names," William slowly said.

"I suppose you have no reason to stay now, I want you to know that I am forever in your debt. I wish you could stay, at least until your brother is back."

Eliza's son was born in the early hours of March 17th—the same day that the siege of Boston ended.

* * *

" _Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone._

 _I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One._

 _I give ye my Spirit, 'til our Life shall be Done_."

Dowager Dashwood recited the Celtic wedding vows. Until her marriage to Mr . MacTavish, she would have to know them all by heart. She knew that Mr . MacTavish was a suitable husband for her, she had come to respect him as he was a widower from Providence Rhode Island. They complemented each other just as they needed one another. In her, Mr . MacTavish saw a caring woman that had a mother's gentle touch, something his two children long since had forgotten. She was saddened by the fact that her youngest Margaret still was missing. She would have liked the company of her youngest daughter, especially since she prepared to travel to Mr . MacTavish's Providence home in the state of Rhode Island to celebrate Easter, meet her future husband's son and daughter for the first time, and more importantly, to announce the promise of marriage.

" _You cannot possess me for I belong to myself_

 _But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give_

 _You cannon command me, for I am a free person_

 _But I shall serve you in those ways you require_

 _and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand_."

Unlike her sister Lucy, Nancy knew that as soon as the wedding ended, Dowager Dashwood and her three girls would have to make Providence, Rhode Island their new home. She did not know how Lucy would take the news, just as she worried about how Miss Marianne would take the news of having to leave Norland, the place where she was born and the place where she had so many fond memories of her late father. Naturally, she assumed Elinor already would be prepared for what was to come.

* * *

"Where exactly do you think you're going at this hour, Lucy?" Asked Nancy, horrified.

"Nowhere, Nancy. I just needed some air," stammered Lucy as she looked down at her feet.

"You better not go anywhere tonight, you hear. Everyone's needed to help prepare for the Dashwoods move," announced Nancy.

"Move? But Nancy, where to?" , asked Lucy worriedly.

"To Mr . MacTavish estate in Providence, Rhode Island of course, once they're married not before then. You didn't expect Mr . MacTavish and his children to move into Norland, now did you?"

"No, I suppose not." Lucy swallowed and blinked away a tear.

"Besides, Mistress MacTavish will need us both then, reprimanded Nancy.

"Nancy, do you think Margaret ever will be found?" Lucy asked in a low tone of voice.

"Of course she will, I'll tell you what help us for an hour and then you can have a break," suggested Nancy.

She knew exactly how her older sister felt about Joe—she considered him a traitor. Certainly not someone Nancy would have wanted her younger sister around. _To Lucy, Joe was everything she wasn't. He was determined, proud, and brave and those qualities only made Lucy's interest in someone just like him increase. Of course, she knew she wasn't supposed to see someone like Joe Ferrars, she didn't like sneaking around behind her sister's back just so she could see Joe. What was she supposed to do when someone like Joe came around? He was the first man that had showed an interest in her and that only flattered Lucy. Why was he interested in someone like her when Joe Ferrars could have any slave or free Black woman that his heart desired?_ Were his intentions with Lucy, daughter of Amy, pure?

* * *

Robert had had no choice but to continue to the Province of Maine. He had deliberately not written back to his brother to update him on his progress. _If it were true that Miss Margaret Dashwood was a married woman—possibly married to an Irishman —it could mean that their union might have resulted in a child, and if so, there would be no legal reason to annul such a union. He could only hope that he was wrong. The youngest Dashwood daughter married long before her older sisters. Elinor would take the news the best, while Marianne most likely would be inconsolable. If her sister was a married woman before her, it would mean that she also might become a mother before her. Oh, the shame and misfortune if indeed Margaret was married to an Irish man!_ Especially now, with their mother married off to a Scottish Loyalist, it might lead to mother and daughter being prevented from ever seeing or hearing from one another again.

"I so look forward to seeing Allenham in person, don't you Elinor?," asked Marianne without waiting for her sister to answer.

Elinor sighed. "Yes Marianne, I suspect Allenham not will disappoint you!"

"Disappoint me, how could Allenham do so? You must help me Elinor, I need to know the exact measurements of every room." Marianne said in a serious tone.

"Oh, and why exactly is that may I ask? Has Mr . Smith already proposed to you? If he has, let me be the first to offer my congratulations on such a joyous occasion ," Elinor said with sincerity.

"No, Elinor, he has unfortunately not proposed to me yet. I hope he will, and I for one interpret this invitation as a very good sign."

"Well then, Marianne, try to contain yourself for our mother and poor Margaret's sake. Please, I beg you not to act as the future mistress of Allenham when neither you nor I know what Mr . Smith's intentions are," Elinor reprimanded her sister.

"Oh, Elinor, thank you, I was about to make such a fool out of myself!" Marianne exclaimed and hid her face in her gloved hands.

"Now, dear, cheer up, blow your nose and try not to think of what just happened," suggested Elinor as the buggy got nearer to Allenham estate.


	14. De Nuptiis

At last, the missing child of Mrs . Dashwood, Mrs . MacTavish, now had been found and she even appeared to be on her way back to Pennsylvania, Philadelphia. Robert anticipated that greeting from his sister's side would be forced at best. During the months that young Margaret had been missing, his sister certainly did not rest to make the necessary arrangements to ensure in such a short period of time that she not only was the only mistress of Norland but the only Mrs . Dashwood.

To Robert, this didn't come as a surprise. He knew his older sister. Deep down, Fanny Dashwood was determined, stubborn and ambitious—certainly not qualities that society expected women would possess . He knew he didn't want his wife to have the same character as Fanny. He wanted someone who was genuine and kind, someone that could support and comfort him and one that was his equal. He had never considered himself an equal to his older sister. She had never treated him as one, nor did she imagine their relationship to be equal. Robert had been impatient and jealous of his older brother. He thought his life had been unfair; he envied Edward and his West Point education. It was not because he longed for a life in the Army or Navy. It was due to the opportunities that naturally presented themselves for a West Point graduate. These days, though, Robert was content with being in his older brother's shadow. He was finally satisfied with life. As a second-born son, Robert was no heir, his family expected less of him than they did of his older brother. Robert realized his sister never would accept to not have a say when it eventually would be time for him to settle down. As a second son, it was more common for them to marry for love unless their families were poor. All a family expected for a younger son was that he would eventually marry and start a family of his own. _He assumed it would be many years before he was supposed to find himself a wife. As far as Robert was concerned, he was not yet ready to be responsible for someone other than himself, so how could he even think of marrying...?_

* * *

"Lucy, why ya' so stubborn keeping y'are virtue? Don't ya kno' ya' y'are next to useless until the day when you become with child?" answered Joe through gritted teeth , punching his knuckles into a nearby tree out of frustration.

"Joe, please don't ya be like this. Ya're scaring me and I don't like it," Lucy hulked with tears running down her face.

If her mother was wrong, as Joe not only implied but insisted on, it also meant that her beloved older sister was wrong as well. _Was she valued differently as a woman because of her race...? Was her value as a woman different... Was it only the virtue of young unmarried white women that society valued the most...? What should she do?_ She didn't know anything anymore. Everything she knew and used to believe seemed to be false. Her only friend used to be Eliza Williams, and now her mother and sister had strongly disapproved of her friendship with the mulatto woman. She wasn't supposed to see Joe either, let alone be alone with him. Especially not at this hour. But then again, if she gave in to Joe, perhaps everything would change. Joe must finally realize how much I care about him if I am willing to let him persuade me...

* * *

Upon witnessing the exact size of the Allenham estate, Marianne drew a breath. It was even greater than she had heard, more majestic and luxurious than she ever imagined. She had hoped her father would be around when it was time for her to choose a suitor and husband. Faith wanted otherwise; now, when she was nearing the age of marriage, she literally had nobody to rely on or confide in. As she was the second-born daughter, she realized she couldn't marry before her older sister Elinor, unless a situation that would call for a wedding in haste occurred. Marianne's disappointment had increased as the lack of a promise of marriage never was on any of her suitor's minds. She didn't understand why. She was young and very handsome with an exotic, rare beauty similar to a chocolate cosmos seldom found in English ladies. She hoped that Mr . Smith would prove to be different from her other beaus. Marianne smiled, as she had made up her mind to become the future Mrs . Smith no matter what. If Mr . Smith needed reassurance and encouragement, she would be more than delighted to offer it to him... As soon as Elinor and Mrs . Smith were out of sight, Marianne decided to put her plan into motion. She didn't think Mr . Smith would disapprove. After all, he was a man. She blushed as she realized what she was about do, but giggled to herself as soon as the thought of Mr . Smith entered her mind.

"Mr . Smith, be a gentleman and put me out of my misery, please," whispered Marianne, into Mr . Smith's ear.

At first, Willoughby did not know how to react. He remembered a similar situation with another young woman with same dark complexion... Marianne nodded and smiled towards him. She even bent down, revealing her bosom to him as she pretended to have dropped one of her hair pins.

Willoughby sighed and wet his lips before asking Miss. Marianne if he had heard what he thought he had. "Miss Marianne, I am a gentleman as you say and I would be more than happy to end your misery if I only knew what you were insinuating," he hesitantly replied.

"Mr . Smith, don't be shy. I think you know exactly what I mean," answered Marianne and batted her eyes at him.

"Are you sure you know what you are doing now, Miss Marianne?" asked Willoughby as he had trouble controlling his breath.

"Yes, Mr . Smith. I have never been as certain about anything before," whispered Marianne.

As it happened to be Easter Marianne had pleaded with her sister that she would be allowed to wear the dress she wore at her cotillion. The periwinkle- blue-and- lavender-striped silk gown that she had received numerous of compliments for. She remembered that Lieutenant Colonel Brandon couldn't take his eyes of her that day. She hoped that her cotillion dress would have the same effect on Mr . Smith.

Willoughby couldn't take his eyes off Miss Marianne. Her exotic beauty as rare as a blue fringed daisy meant he needed little convincing. He felt differently for Miss Marianne compared to his previous affairs. What he felt for Miss Marianne was different from what he had felt for his previous hated to admit to himself, but he adored Miss Marianne. He could envision her as his future wife. His aunt Mrs . Smith seemed to have taken to Miss Marianne's older sister and her mother too. He knew his aunt would approve if he choose to offer a proposal for Miss Marianne's hand in marriage. The only thought that made him hesitate was the thought of physically hurting Miss Marianne and also the fact that if he chose to act on her words. _If anyone were to discover Miss Marianne's virtue was lost to him before they were legally wed or in a promise of marriage, his chances of getting Miss Marianne Dashwood as his wife would be significantly decreased._

"Mr . Smith, please don't make me wait any longer! I know what I want. If you don't believe my words, come here and feel my heartbeat," insisted Marianne as she unbuttoned the top of her dress. Three buttons was enough. Once she was finished, she looked up at Mr. Smith and placed her hand on top of the deep cleavage to the left side of her breast.

"Miss Marianne, I better lock the door before someone discovers us, or you, in this compromising situation. Don't you agree, Miss Marianne?" inquired Willoughby without taking his eyes of Marianne.

* * *

Margaret had objected to the idea of leaving her husband; she refused to leave his side even if her husband had insisted that it was better for both her and their unborn child to be born in the safety of Norland. Her husband thought his young wife would want her mother by her side when the time came. _She worried for the health and wellbeing of her child. What if she went into labor while traveling from the Province of Maine to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania? The last thing that she said to her husband was delivered in a heated argument._

"Mr . O'Shennessy, I will do as you wish, even though I would prefer to stay here by your side. I will never forgive you if anything happens to this child of yours. You better pray, Mr. O'Shennessy, that our baby isn't born before I have arrived safely to Norland."

Margaret already knew exactly how many days the journey would take. She was worried she would be forced to give birth to her firstborn son in the simple carriage and not the safety of her familiar room in Norland. A physician her husband had consulted had strongly objected to Margaret's long journey, since she was only days before her estimated birth. On the last day of her journey, Margareth allowed herself to relax. Soon she would be in her mother's arms. She envisioned Marianne's reaction to her younger sister's marriage and she began to laugh. She laughed so hard that her belly hurt and tears appeared in the corner of her eyes. As the dusk began, Margaret was forced to realize her husband's firstborn child would be delivered inside the carriage in the first few hours of March 17th. At least her firstborn would be born on the most Irish day of all, as March 17th had been celebrated in honor of the Irish Catholic Saint St. Patrick. She hoped her husband would be present for their future children's births.

* * *

"Mrs . Dashwood, Margaret is coming now!" shouted Nancy in bewilderment.

"Nancy, please. My sister needs her sleep. She had a difficult labor last night. I'm certain you remember that, Nancy," reprimanded Robert.

"I'm sorry, sir," mumbled Nancy.

"Are you certain you really saw Margaret,or was it just a carriage?" inquired Robert.

"Just a carriage, sir," answered Nancy, as she looked away.

"Just a carriage, you say? It could literally be anyone then. Lieutenant Colonel Brandon is expected here, any day now. I doubt he would arrive by carriage, though..." Robert mumbled to himself.

"What reason does he have to come here?" asked Nancy naively.

"My sister says she expects him to call on us," said Robert.

"Why he want to call on her?" asked Nancy.

"For Marianne's sake, apparently."

"What does he want with Miss Marianne?" inquired Nancy.

"Lieutenant Colonel Brandon is New England's most eligible bachelor despite his age. Marianne is still a bit too young since she is too naive. In time, my sister is convinced she would make any man happy if she were to be their wife," explained Robert.

"I've been wanting to ask you what will happen to me and Lucy now that Mrs . Dashwood has remarried."

"My sister has decided that one of you will go to live with Marianne as soon as she has married. The other would eventually go to live with Elinor,"replied since it's not a Robert. His sister believed in traditional values and after several attempts to persuade his sister to honor the last wish of her late father-in-law, she had implied that she would let both Nancy and Lucy stay with the Dashwoods. When Elinor married, Nancy would become a part of her new household, just as Lucy's new home would be with Marianne and her future husband. Fanny was adamant the two sisters would be given to her sister-in-laws once they married, completely disregarding the fact that there was also a third, younger daughter, one that Robert feared already had married. He also worried about the reason for Margaret's sudden reappearance...


	15. Matrimonium

Fanny took it upon herself to endure that her husband's two oldest sisters would be married shortly. Even though Lieutenant Colonel Brandon's reasons for siding with the British were suspicious, the fact that he seemed to be respected by the British troops was good enough for Fanny Dashwood. Surely , her husband could not disapprove of getting the most eligible bachelor of New England's Colonials as a brother-in-law?

Even though her late father-in-law's wife survived her husband, the fact that she remarried meant that her three daughters by her first marriage no longer were the responsibility of her new husband. The future of the three Dashwood daughters now lay in the hands of their stepbrother Mr . John Dashwood, or more so his wife's.

 _Dear Lieutenant Colonel Brandon._

 _Miss Dashwood and Miss Marianne humbly accept your invitation to visit Delaford._

 _Miss Marianne confided in me that she looks forward to finally seeing you again. She will try to practice and learn another piece that she hopes she can perform to you in person._

 _Sincerely, Miss Marianne through Mrs . Dashwood_

The thing Willoughby—not only Willoughby, but all the members of the Sons of Liberty—feared ever since the day of the Dumping of the Tea was that their disguise and presence in the Boston harbor would be discovered as their involvement in the Sons of Liberty. For Willoughby, it seemed that day had arrived. Somehow Miss Grey had learned of his involvement in the Dumping of the Tea and the Sons of Liberty. _She promised not reveal it, as long as Willoughby agreed to marry Miss Grey in exchange for her silence. Was this the price he had to pay for all his sins, broken hearts and love affairs? Was he really willing to give up on Marianne Dashwood what was he to do? Should he agree to the official engagement with Miss Sophia Grey so that his involvement in the Dumping of Tea would remain a secret?_ What was it that said that Miss Sophia Grey would honor her promise to him if he agreed to marry her?

 _Dear Mr . Willoughby._

 _You are quite mistaken if you believe your alliance to the Sons of Liberty is safe._

 _I know exactly where you were that day. If you want my silence, I think it do you best if you ask my father for permission for my hand in marriage._

 _Miss Sophia Grey_

In early December 1776, American morale was very low. The Americans had been ousted from New York by the British and their Hessian auxiliaries, and the Continental Army was forced to retreat across New Jersey. Ninety percent of the Continental Army soldiers who had served at Long Island were gone. Men had deserted, feeling that the cause for independence was lost. One of the men that was quick to surrender was Lieutenant Colonel Ferrars.

He acted on impulse for the first time in his life. Ever since receiving that letter from Elinor, his resolve had wavered. _He did no longer want to participate in the ongoing battle between the British and the Colonists. Even though he was the son of Captain Ferrars and despite the British victory at Bunker Hill, he had changed his mind. He sided with the abolitionists. Edward knew he had to seek refugee. Otherwise, the British would discover him and accuse him for treason for deserting the British Army._ On June 18, he had ushered his horse out of Charlestown, Massachusetts at dawn. All he knew was that he needed to leave Charlestown and preferably Boston too. The question still remained where exactly he would go. Delaford was out of the question, not only because it was located in the capital city of Boston but more so the fact that Lieutenant Colonel Brandon had been persuaded to join the British.

The only remaining fence-sitters were the Jennings and the Mortons. The Mortons had their own worries as Mr. Morton had fallen at the battle of Lexington while Mrs . Jennings was an elder woman that he dared not ask for help even though he was convinced she should not refuse to help him.

Allenham, the Smith's estate in Virginia was as much as an option as Mr . Pratt's Delaware farm, and Mr. Willoughby's Combe Magna estate in New Hampshire. _He knew he could have trusted in late Mr . Dashwood, but his widow Mrs. Dashwood had recently remarried Scottish Loyalist MacTavish and relocated to the Province of Rhode Island. Could he still trust that Mrs . MacTavish would help him and not report from deserting the British Army? He assumed Mrs. MacTavish shared her new husband's opinions now that she supposedly was his new wife_. Eventually Edward remembered late Mr. Dashwood's three daughters. He and his younger brother had aided the Dashwood's in their search for youngest daughter. He was certain Elinor still remembered what he done and gladly would offer to hide him. Now the only question that remained was how he would manage to let her know that he had switched sides and needed refuge. He was convinced it only would be a matter of days maybe even hours before Mrs. Ferrars and his sister discovered that he had deserted to the Colonists. He knew his mother would not hesitate disowning him. In his place Robert would be the new Ferrars heir and forced to relocate the Ferrars Iron Nest farm in New York. His mother would insist upon Robert finding himself a suitable wife before the season ended. His new conviction was so strong that he knew he could not marry unless his future wife either was an abolitionist or patriot...

On the morning of December 25, Washington ordered his army to prepare three days' food, and issued orders that every soldier be outfitted with fresh flints for their muskets. He was also somewhat worried by intelligence reports that the British were planning their own crossing once the Delaware was frozen over. At 4 pm, Washington's army turned out for its evening parade, where the troops were issued ammunition, and even the officers and musicians were ordered to carry muskets. They were told that they were departing on a secret mission. Marching eight abreast in close formation and ordered to be as quiet as possible, they left the camp for McKonkey's plan required the crossing to begin as soon as it was dark enough to conceal their movements on the river, but most of the troops did not reach the crossing point until about 6 pm, about ninety minutes after the weather got progressively worse, turning from drizzle to rain to sleet and snow. "It blew a hurricane," recalled one soldier.

Washington had given charge of the crossing logistics to his chief of artillery, the stout Henry Knox. In addition to the crossing of large numbers of troops (most of whom could not swim), he had to safely carry horses and eighteen pieces of artillery over the river. Knox wrote that the crossing was accomplished "with almost infinite difficulty", and that its most noteworthy danger was "floating ice in the river". One observer noted that the whole operation might well have failed "but for the earsplitting lungs of Colonel Knox".

Washington was among the first of the troops to venture over, going with Virginia troops led by General Adam Stephen. These troops formed a guard line around the landing area in New Jersey, with firm instructions that no one was to pass through. The password was "Victory or Death". The remainder of the army crossed without significant incident, although a few men, including Delaware's Colonel John Haslet, fell into the water.

The amount of ice on the river stopped the artillery from finishing the crossing until 3 am on December 26. The troops were not ready to march until 4 am.

The two other crossings proceeded less well. The deceitful weather and ice jams on the river prevented General Ewing from endeavoring a crossing below Trenton. Colonel Cadwalader helped a most of his men to New Jersey, but when he found that he could not get his artillery across the river, he recalled his men from New Jersey. When he received word about Washington's victory, he crossed his men over again but retreated when he found out that Washington had not stayed in New Jersey.

Theodore arrived outside of Boston, Massachusetts on the agreed date. As already arranged, he waited for Brandon to appear so that their charade could begin. _He hoped nobody would notice him before it was time to put everything in motion. He knew he probably looked suspicious all dressed in black, with a wide long hood covering most of his face._ The horse Theodore was on was well trained, which was fortunate when a young mulatto girl appeared only inches from his hiding place.

Lieutenant Colonel Brandon appeared just as Theodore drew a breath and tightened the reins of the horse handles.

"Eliza! There you are. I do believe your little one could use another feeding," Brandon said in a friendly voice as he nodded discreetly towards Theodore.

"But sir, what about my duties? I haven't fed the animals yet," protested Eliza.

"I am grateful for your loyalty towards me and the salt plantation, but my Eliza, your priorities need to change. You are a mother now and you have a newborn son to care for. He should be your first priority from now on," reprimanded Brandon.

"It was kind of you tell me, sir. I hope he didn't wake you," Eliza said with a sigh.

"Nonsense! This estate could use the sound of a child's voice. Besides, it keeps me younger," Brandon said, smiling.

"I hope he hasn't been bothering you for too long sir," murmured Eliza.

"I came here to tell you even before his first cry," Brandon assured her.

"For that, I thank you sir," answered Eliza and hurried her step. Brandon nodded towards Theodore, who dismounted his horse and began to move closer towards Brandon.

"My good man, I do not want to offer shelter to either liberated slaves or runaways. You've entered the property of Brandon and I have the right to take you as a captive unless you tell me your alliance also lies with the British!" shouted Brandon at the top of his lungs as he pointed his bayonet on Theodore.

"Oh no sir, please have mercy on my life! I promise to reveal all the Colonists' plans in exchange for my life," stuttered Theodore.

Brandon nodded. "Yes. I, for once, agree with you: you are worth more alive than dead."

When Marianne and Elinor returned to Norland they did so without knowing how their lives had changed. Neither of them was aware of their mother's remarriage. Elinor suspected that their mother eventually would remarry, but she did not know when, Elinor was surprised and grateful to discover that their youngest sister Margaret had returned to Norland. She was very happy but surprised to learn that Margaret was a new mother. On the second day of being back, Marianne did receive a surprising gift from New Jersey. It was a specially bred horse suitable to hold the weight of a young woman. The horse was accompanied by a letter which contained a marriage proposal to Marianne.

 _Dear Mr . Willoughby_

 _I am unaware of what promises my second daughter could have offered you; it is possible she does return your feelings. Unfortunately, though, Miss Marianne Dashwood is expected to receive a marriage proposal from a more suitable man. Under the present circumstances she cannot keep your generous gift. The horse will be sent back as soon as it has regained its strength._

 _Sincerely, Mrs . MacTavish_

As the two sisters prepared to leave the carriage, from an open window a heartrending cry of an infant's voice broke the silence.

"Sorry, Mrs . O'Shennessy, I'll get straight to him," sighed Nancy and glanced at two married women.

"Oh, no Nancy let me stop you right there. You or Lucy will not go near Mrs . O'Shennessy's child. She has informed me that she is an abolitionist," objected Fanny.

"Margaret, don't tell me you managed to be married before me!", exclaimed Marianne in pure shock and lost her footing.

"O'Shennessy wouldn't be Irish now would it?", inquired Elinor and glanced at her youngest, now apparently married sister, to her sister-in-law back to Margaret.

"Elinor, you are quite right my husband is an Irish patriot," answered Margaret with proudness in her voice.

"It's unfortunate that your sister married an Irish patriot just as your mother very recently remarried a Scottish loyalist," remarked Fanny and shook her head.

"Mrs . Dashwood, I am perfectly capable of caring for my child," Margaret almost spat out and added "I wouldn't want neither Nancy nor Lucy to help me with my child since both my husband and I are abolitionists."

"Hold on! Margaret is it true that you already are a mother?", asked Marianne enviously.

"Don't tell me that the child was conceived out-of-wedlock," added Elinor and raised an eyebrow.

"Was your pregnancy the reason for your disappearance?", asked Marianne softly.

"Marianne, I doubt it. It seems our sister, at least did one thing correctly I assume she married before she had her child," remarked Elinor.

"His full name is Michael John O'Shennessy," informed Margaret as she crossed her shoulders.

"If Mother is remarried to a Scottish loyalist does she even know our sister is married to an Irish patriot?", asked Marianne.

"I suppose, that fact may very well mean Mother's new husband is likely to want her to disassociate herself from you," predicted Elinor in an ominous voice.


	16. Contritum Promissa

Rhode Island, Mrs . MacTavish was embarrassed and humiliated to think that her youngest actually had married the son of an Irishman and an abolitionist at that. She never expected her youngest to do something like that—it was more something that her second eldest, Marianne, would do. Of course Annie realized that if her late first husband were still alive, he would have been extremely proud of his youngest. Instead, since her new husband was a Scottish loyalist, he was vocal about his strong dislike that his second wife had a daughter that appeared to side with the colonists with her marriage to an Irish youth.

"I must confess Mrs . MacTavish I am utterly disappointed by your youngest daughter's latest action," revealed Mr . MacTavish and sighed.

"Husband, please forgive my youngest I beg of you!" exclaimed Mrs . MacTavish in a thick, voice.

"Wife, this time I imagine that there are extraordinary circumstances. Mrs. O'Shennessy may be your daughter, but the fact that she married a Scottish colonist means that she officially isn't welcome here. You are not to see her out in public, but I am not a cruel man, Mrs. MacTavish. Your daughter is welcome here solely on the premise that you are her mother. As for her husband and eventual children, my hospitality does not extend to them," explained Mr . MacTavish.

"Husband, I assure you I had no idea of my youngest's plans!" confessed Mrs . MacTavish in exclamation.

"I suggest you try to get to know my son and daughter now. Since you are my wife now Mrs . MacTavish you also are my children's mother," insinuated Mr. MacTavish

"To be honest, I was hoping such an opportunity would present itself. I want nothing else than to be closer with them," whispered Mrs . MacTavish.

"I was hoping that our union eventually would result in a second male heir, even though none of your sons from your first marriage survived," Mr. MacTavish nodded slowly as he remembered that none of his second wife's son survived into adulthood.

"Husband, have you already forgotten the son you already have?" asked Mrs . MacTavish.

"On the contrary, my dear. One male heir is a bare minimum. Two sons is better than one, but to be honest, between three and five sons is ideal," explained Mr . MacTavish.

"Hopefully, my childbearing days have not ended!" exclaimed Mrs . MacTavish.

"All the more reason for me to start visiting your chamber. I assume you understood that once we married, you would not only be my wife in name. I expect you to be pregnant in a year and no later than within two years, dear wife," announced Mr . MacTavish.

"I-I understand, Mr. MacTavish," stuttered Mrs . MacTavish as she struggled to conceal her tears and not lose her composure.

"Wife, you may expect my first visit later tonight. Our marriage should already have been consummated weeks ago. Next week I'll visit you three nights and the week after four until you've gotten accustomed to me," explained Mr . MacTavish.

"Husband, I am sorry, my mind has been preoccupied with thoughts of worry for my youngest," explained Mrs. MacTavish.

"Under current circumstances, that is expected, but I think you will have no reason to worry for either of your daughters since I asked your step-daughter-in-law to help me get them married," confessed Mr . MacTavish.

"I see. Promise me you will find Elinor and Marianne good husbands," pleaded Mrs . MacTavish in a thick voice as tears were running down her cheeks.

"You have my word, Mrs . MacTavish both Elinor and Marianne will be married to suitable Loyalist men. Your first late husband may have been a Colonist supporter, but this is amendable. I warn you, Mrs . MacTavish, do not fill my son's head with your husband's opinions and ideas. The same goes for my daughter Allison of course. I expect my son and daughter to be raised into Loyalists just as I hope you will raise our future sons the same,"replied Mr . MacTavish and gave his wife a peck on the cheek.

* * *

Meanwhile a distraught Nancy visited Louis against her better judgement. She was besides herself and did not know what would become of her and her sister. She was crying inconsolably and the Louis was helpless since he did not know how to console the crying young woman.

"Hush, Nancy, such a pretty lady like yourself shouldn't be crying," whispered Louis, wrapping his arms around her as she placed her head on his shoulder.

"Louis, I don't kno' what will happen to me," Nancy confessed while snuffling.

"Nobody knows that, Nancy," Louis said in an attempt to console the crying girl, as he softly pulled her closer.

"I'm worried what will happen to ma sister Lucy when we are separated," confessed Nancy as she blew her nose.

"You should be grateful for the years you got with your sister. Many people aren't as lucky," answered Louis and looked into her deep dark brown or "looked deep into her dark brown eyes.

"I'll be fine, Louis, don't worry about me. Ma sister is just so gullible, without me, she'd be in even more trouble," replied Nancy slowly and instinctively leaned closer towards mouths were only inches apart. Louis' breath felt warm and his pulse seemed high. The atmosphere felt electric between the two of them.

"Nancy, exactly how old is your sister?" asked Louis and took off his hat as he inclined his head slightly to the right.

"Lucy's two years younger," replied Nancy and closed her eyes as she prepared to be kissed.

"Don't ya think it's time Lucy learned to be less dependent on you?" asked Louis, placing his index finger on top of her slightly opened mouth.

"What 're ya' sayin'?" asked Nancy. She opened her eyes as she felt Louis' fingertip on her upper lip.

"She's always going to be your sister, but don't you want a family of your own?" Louis asked, puckering his lips.

"Me? Louis, I've not thought about that. I don't kno' anyone that would want me," Nancy whispered. She felt her heart skip a beat as she believed she finally was going to get her very first kiss.

"Nancy, are you really sure about that?"Louis asked, wetting his lips discreetly as he waited for her next reaction.

"No, Louis, I can't be! You and Joe Ferrars are the only men I know," objected Nancy and regretted that she had not had time to wash or change her clothes. Of course her stained clothes didn't matter to Louis. She blushed slightly as she remembered that she forgot wash and brush her hair.

"Nancy, you surprise me sometimes, like just now. You seem to be so wise, as long as it doesn't involve you," replied Louis.

"What makes you say that, Louis?" asked Nancy, surprised. She stood up.

"Isn't it obvious, Nancy? I care about you. Do you care about me, Nancy?" asked Louis as he looked up at the young woman with admiration.

"'Course I do Louis. Aren't we friends?" wondered Nancy. She took a step back and put her hands up to prevent him from coming closer.

"I'd like to think we're more than just friends, Nancy," confessed Louis. He put his right hand out to grab Nancy and pull her back. "I really hope so. Nancy, can you promise me something?" he asked as their fingertips touched.

"Gosh Louis, I can't not when I don't kno' what it is," Nancy said. She looked away to not have to face his hopeful, eager eyes.

"Promise me you'll not let any other man get as close to you as we are!" exclaimed Louis in a high-pitched, upset voice as he crossed his arms.

"Are you comin' back to Philadelphia then?" asked Nancy as she glanced back at the man. Her voice sounded both surprised and disappointed.

"I guess I am," answered Louis as he lifted her face so her eyes faced his.

"I might no be here then," Nancy explained slowly as her voice cracked.

"Oh, why is that Nancy?" asked Louis and began to wipe her tears with the sleeve of his shirt.

"New Mistress wants me to go with Elinor," answered Nancy as she looked down and saw his her hands in between her skirts.

"Oh, so that means Lucy will go to live with Marianne then," answered Louis as his voice got thick.

"How did you know?" inquired Nancy and began to fidget as she felt uncomfortable.

"Sometimes when young daughters marry, their nanny might go to live with their new families," explained Louis with a saddened smile.

"And if we never see each other again?" asked Nancy. She bit her lip as she realized she had said it out loud.

"Nancy, if that happens, I promise I'll find you," Louis assured her, and he opened his arms to the crying young woman.

"Oh, Louis no! That's not fair on ya," objected Nancy.

"You 'ave ma word Nancy, I promise I'll find ya' wherever you end up," Louis assured her in a soft voice.

"Even if I 'ave to move to Boston?" asked Nancy. She blew her nose.

"Have I ever lied to ya, Nancy? Just promise me you'll be careful around the male workers at Delaford," Louis said in a jealous tone of voice. Louis' sudden change of tone of voice scared Nancy.

"Louis Mama raised me well. Ya don't 'ave to remind me," Nancy affirmed slowly.

"One day I hope to make you the mother of my children," Louis revealed.

"No, Louis! I'm not that kind of girl!" objected Nancy. She accidentally took a side step.

"I wish I could be free to marry some day," whispered Louis as he caught Nancy as she fell.

"That's not even ma worry Louis. I won't allow any man to get me pregnant. Not 'fore I am liberated," confessed Nancy.

"Ya don't kno what ya say. I don't believe ya," objected Louis, laughing at her answer.

"I don't care. I won't allow it from any man!" exclaimed Nancy. She raised an eyebrow as she heard Louis' loud laughter.

"If I could Nancy, I'd ask ya' to marry me and be ma wife. But I'm not liberated, nor do I have a Master to ask," answered Louis sadly.

"That's why Mama told us we should try to meet liberated slaves or free workers," Nancy said as she shook her head.

"I've been promised to be free once the war ends," replied Louis sadly.

* * *

 _Dearest Robert, please come back home I have an urgent matter to discuss with you. It concerns your father's inheritance and his estate Iron Nest. Please come as soon as you have read this. Sincerely, Mrs . Ferrars_

Even before his mother sent for him, Robert was already expecting that she would. Especially once he got to hear a rumor that his oldest brother had deserted. He refused to believe it since he thought he knew his brother better. The thought of Edward Ferrars deserting seemed absolutely out of the question to Robert.

Marianne was worried that she had become sick after visiting the Smith's Allenham estate. At first she was only nauseous when waking up but now she struggled with the urgent need to vomit especially when someone was preparing a meal that involved meat, fish or eggs. She couldn't understand it and she could only hope that the disease wasn't serious and would disappear eventually. Ever since she and Elinor returned from their visit, Marianne rarely saw her older sister unless it was time to eat or greet a visitor. That puzzled her. She could use her older sister's advice, but now she was afraid to voice her concerns, even to her sister. She wished she could come up with an excuse that would mean she did not have to visit Delaford. She was still unaware of the horse Willoughby sent to Norland, just as she wasn't aware of her step-sister-in-law's involvement or the fact that Willoughby was facing a dilemma; to marry Marianne and risk being discovered as a Son of Liberty and possibly losing his inheritance or agree to marry Miss Grey and hoping she never expose his involvement in the Boston Tea Party. Willoughby was extremely hurt upon learning that Marianne stood to marry Lieutenant Colonel Brandon. Had Marianne known about her own engagement while obviously trying to seduce him?


	17. A heros est nobis ingenuumque

Even though Elinor never had experienced motherhood, she still suspected that her younger unmarried sister might have placed herself in a predicament where she might end up giving birth to an illegitimate child. Elinor had carefully observed her sister for some time now and despite the fact that Marianne yet did not show, Elinor was concerned.

As the two sisters' was traveling to Delaford, Elinor knew this might be her only opportunity to speak to Marianne alone.

Carefully she knocked on the door to her younger sister's chamber.

"Yes, you may enter!" answered Marianne and looked nervously at the door...

"There you are, Marianne. I came hereto offer my assistance in helping you pick out a suitable wardrobe for your stay at Delaford," explained Elinor.

"That is most kind of you Elinor, but why does my wardrobe concern you now?" asked Marianne suspiciously .

"Oh dear child, don't you understand that you may become the future mistress of Delaford?" comforted Elinor.

"But Elinor, do you not think Lieutenant Colonel Brandon is a bit too old for me?" asked Marianne.

"Marianne, sweet Marianne, yes Lieutenant Colonel Brandon is some years older than you but he is healthy. Have you already forgotten that our Father and Mother had the same age difference?" reminded Elinor.

"I am sorry, Elinor," mumbled Marianne with her face hidden in her skirts. Marianne blew her nose and looked up "Elinor, would you be able to marry someone that you did not love?" asked Marianne and glanced at her sister.

"Marianne, I think it is possible for two people to fall in love once married just like Mother and Father did. The question for you seems to be if you already are in love in someone else. My love, you would tell me if you were secretly engaged to Mr. Smith's heir, would you not?" Elinor whispered as she grabbed Marianne's hands.

"Elinor, you do embarrass me! Do you not know me better than this, everyone except you seems to understand that if I were in the arrangement you speak of—would you honestly believe I would be able to keep dumb about that?" Marianne asked and frowned.

"Can you blame me, Marianne? You had everyone fooled into believing you were in fact to be married to him. As your sister I feel it is my duty to know if your virtue still is intact—if it is not, then you must act and make Lieutenant Colonel Brandon believe he is your first,"advised Elinor slowly.

Marianne closed her eyes and took a deep breath. With their mother remarried with a family in Rhode Island, she realized that she only could confide in her older sister. _Perhaps Elinor was right: if she indeed was carrying the child of the Smith's heir, then she knew she would have to use her beauty and her charm to make Lieutenant Colonel Brandon believe he was her first._

"You are right, dear Elinor. I will ask Nancy to wash to the dress I had on my first cotillion—the one that Lieutenant Colonel Brandon gave me compliments for," said Marianne.

"I remember that dress. You need more dresses than that, especially if we are expected to stay at Delaford for at least a week,"reprimanded Elinor.

"Would you be so kind to lend me your pink silk dress then?" requested Marianne.

"I suppose it is a most, besides I suspect the Lieutenant Colonel only will have eyes for you while not concerning himself with what I wear," sighed Elinor.

* * *

"Lieutenant Colonel Brandon, I am honored to be invited to your grand estate!" exclaimed Marianne.

I share my younger sister's observations," concurred Elinor.

"I am happy to hear you find Delaford to your liking. It would be unfortunate if you did not,"confessed Brandon.

"I was kind of hoping to get an opportunity to spend some time alone with you," whispered Marianne in Brandon's ear.

"Miss Marianne what kind of a host would I be if I did not offer my guests' a grand tour of the Delaford main estate,"objected Brandon.

"Lieutenant Colonel Brandon, you better not let a young lady wait for too long," warned Marianne as she giggled and batted her eyes at him.

"Of course not Miss Marianne I would not dream of such a thing I ask you to have some patience with me," answered Brandon.

A few moments later Elinor began to yawn.

"Lieutenant Colonel Brandon, I am afraid the journey from Philadelphia to Boston was too uncomfortable for me and I suggest that we resume the tour for the day so I can retire," answered Elinor.

"Of course, Miss Dashwood. I hope you find the tour amusing," answered Brandon.

"Very much so, Lieutenant Colonel Brandon, the woman that marries you will be a most fortunate woman," replied Elinor.

"Miss Marianne, it seems the two of us finally are alone," answered Brandon and gave Marianne a piercing look.

"It seems so, Lieutenant Colonel," answered Marianne and smiled alluringly.

"Miss Marianne, I think you know are one of the most beautiful women in New England. I do not believe you wanted me alone to give you compliments, now, did you?" replied Brandon.

"I've seen the way you look at me, Lieutenant Colonel Brandon, and since it seems everyone expects us to soon become engaged, I see no harm in being all alone with you," professed Marianne.

"They do, do they? What is it that makes you believe I harbored such feelings and plans for you, Miss Marianne?"

"Oh, please. Why else would you have sent an invitation for me to visit Delaford?"

"Miss Marianne, for all you know I may hope to marry your older sister and not you," answered Brandon teasingly.

"I am afraid I don't believe you, Lieutenant Colonel Brandon. Why else would you have sent a pianoforte to Norland?" objected Marianne.

"Very well, Miss Marianne. Obviously Delaford has the grandest pianoforte not only in Boston but in Massachusetts. Ever since I heard you play, I have been curious to see if you would be able to produce such angelic tones here at Delaford,"confessed Brandon and his voice cracked with emotion.

"Mrs. Jennings told me that you too are no stranger to entertaining by the pianoforte. Might I suggest I a duet?" inquired Marianne.

"It would be an honor to perform a pianoforte duet with you Miss Marianne," confessed Brandon.

Marianne giggled and batted her eyes at Brandon, before placing herself in front of the pianoforte she decided that she would unbutton several of the buttons in her dress.

"Seeing that we are alone, Lieutenant Colonel Brandon, I hope you don't mind if I unbutton a few buttons in my dress. It makes it much easier for me to move my arms that way I can reach all keys of the pianoforte," explained Marianne and wet her lips.

"Of course not, Miss Marianne, but if I did not know better I would assume that you were trying to seduce me," answered Brandon.

Marianne blushed before she answered, "Would it be so wrong if I did...?"

"Miss Marianne, I may be older than you but I am not a fool. I am a man and a gentleman at that and your flirtatious manners has not escaped me. I refuse to take advantage of you, but it has been a true test to my morals and manners. That is not the proper way to start a marriage. If you excuse me, Miss Marianne, I must leave you to refresh myself before I do something I know I will regret," declared Brandon.

* * *

As the only woman Willoughby loved struggled to avoid a detrimental predicament, Willoughby too decided to accept his faith or rather the consequences of his lack of morals...

"I do believe you will be pleased, as I do imagine that my announcement will offer aunt a great deal of relief . Yes, Aunt, I have finally come to my senses. I have decided to accept that Miss Sophia Grey will be the future mistress of my cherished Combe Magna and your magnificent Allenham estate," Willoughby said without revealing his true intentions—honest opinion or deep regret.

 _The woman Willoughby cherished—no, idolised—no longer was available for any of his future plans. He knew that his aunt had high standards few if any women would be able to fulfill. Of course Sophia Grey was a pleasant young woman_ —the daughter of French aristocracy and a British gentleman. _She was not repulsive not even unappealing for the eye._ Yet Miss Sophia Grey's biggest strength was her dowry of 11.000 ponds. _His future marriage was his own personal punishment—the woman that he loved and always would love was no longer his to claim. Perhaps she never was... Married or unmarried, he would always keep a special place for the one that got away inside his heart. Perhaps if he had not been so uptight or encouraging to her, there might have been a chance that the two of them could have been wed—_  
Thoughts like that were to no avail.

Meanwhile back at Delaford even though Eliza always follows Lieutenant Colonel Brandon's orders, this time she thought she had reason not to honor them. Of course she understood that the British and the patriots were at war with one another. She still disliked the treatment Brandon subjected the captured colonial soldier to. Had she known that, it all was an act she might not have been so rushed in her judgement. Still, she managed to tend to the poor fellow's injuries and aches;she even offered him food whenever Brandon was away. She soon begun to develop an intimate connection to him. It annoyed her somewhat that the stranger had refused to offer her his name

Robert is summoned to New York and learns it is he and not his older brother who is expected to marry Miss Amelia Morton.

"Robert, my dear son, the future of the Ferrars now lies in your hands alone," complained Mrs . Ferrars.

"Mother, please, you know how we dislike your habit of speaking in riddles. Especially since you are well aware of the fact that only Mrs . Dashwood understands you!" exclaimed Robert in despair.

"Well then, son, has news about the Battle of Trenton honestly not reached you?" asked Mrs. Ferrars. She looked at her second-born son, and for the first time in many many years, she actually saw him. "How peculiar. Perhaps you have not heard that a British captain deserted..." continued Mrs . Ferrars. She carefully observed her younger son's reaction to her words.

"Mother, I intend no disrespect, but I doubt that that deserting captain will be the last and only one," reprimanded Robert and crossed his arms.

"Please watch your tongue, son. That deserting captain was none other than your older brother soon as I heard the news, I sent our lawyer instructions to cut him out of your father's will. He is no longer welcome to the Iron Nest and you are no longer to mention his name. As his actions have proven a huge disgrace, I no longer consider him your father's heir—not even worthy of the Ferrars name. If you agree to take his place, I will erase him from the family tree," explained Mrs. Ferrars and opened her arms.

Robert would have accepted to his new role as the new Ferrars heir if it weren't for the fact that he suspected that there were certain terms and conditions attached to the agreement. First of all, he knew his identity as a member of the Sons of Liberty was more likely to be discovered with his altered social status. His strong conviction of refusing to take a wife until he developed suitable and appropriate feelings for another woman now seemed to be at stake.

"It almost slipped my mind, dear Robert, but the former Ferrars heir was only months away from marrying his chosen fiancée Miss Amelia Morton. Naturally, I do expect you to marry her instead," Mrs. Ferrars said, and she nodded as she smiled.


	18. Fidelitas

The activity in the Ferrars Iron Nest was bustling with activity as the Ferrars heir finally had agreed to settle down and be a married man. With the upcoming wedding, the Ferrars name and family would survive for at least another generation...unless the war got in between them.

* * *

"Nancy, darling. I hear it is true that you found yourself a beau," stated Fanny. Hearing her mistress' words made Nancy blush.

"No, no mistress, I-I wouldn't want to call it that exactly," objected Nancy.

"Oh, so are you calling your younger sister a liar then?" asked Fanny and gave Nancy a stern gaze.

"Mistress knows my younger sister and should be familiar with her vivid imagination," whispered Nancy.

"So I take it you don't deny that there actually is a man that is interested in you then," Fanny said, and nodded.

"Well, if Lucy says so I suppose it's true,"Nancy confessed in resignation.

"Please tell me more about your mysterious beau!" exclaimed Fanny in excitement.

"To be honest mistress, I, I don't know that much about him," Nancy stuttered in a low voice as she hid her hands in her lap.

"Oh, Nancy that's certainly disconcerting. Do you know anything about him? Is he an honest man?" asked Fanny.

"I think he's name's Louis and I guess he's from the Southern parts based on his strong dialect. He might be from Maryland but that's about all I know," confessed Nancy and lingered on her words.

"Is this Louis a liberated worker or does he have a servitude?" asked Fanny slowly.

"Why do you ask, mistress?" inquired Nancy in astonishment.

"Due to a promise my husband made to Mrs . MacTavish I think you should know that instead of granting you your liberation I will let you and your sister become part Miss Dashwood and Miss Marianne's new households once they marry," explained Fanny.

"Forgive me mistress, but I can't see why or how my mysterious beau would have anything to do with that," whispered Nancy.

"Sometimes you seem even more stupid than your sister," sighed Fanny. "If someone wants to marry you, it's important for me to know if he is a free Black man or not. Otherwise he would have to make his claim to your future master," continued Fanny and shook her head in disbelief.

"I suppose mistress might want to speak to him alone next time I see him," assumed Nancy and swallowed hard.

Louis sighed to himself. Nancy sure was stubborn and it only managed to increase his frustration. As a runaway slave, he knew his only chance to earn his liberation was is if he managed to survive the war. Until then, poor Nancy would have to accept his promise that he would marry her as soon as the war had ended. He had no choice but to ask young Mrs Dashwood about his possibility of getting her approval to marry Nancy. Without it, he knew Nancy would resist and insist to keep their budding love platonic.

Louis had been summoned to Norland by none other than Mistress Dashwood and that worried Louis a great deal. What could she ever want him? Had she somehow discovered that Louis was one of Middleton's runaway slaves?

"Louis, is it true you harbor feelings of love towards my Nancy?"inquired Fanny.

"Yes, yes Mrs Dashwood," stuttered Louis.

"I don't blame you Louis. Nancy is one of Norland's better female workers," agreed Fanny and smiled towards the nervous man.

"She's very kind," confessed Louis and blushed.

"I am very well aware of that, Louis is it?" asked Fanny and changed her tone of voice.

"Yes, yes ma'am, that's me," whispered Louis.

"Are you really sure that really is your name? You can't fool or lie to me as you appear to have managed with Nancy," warned Fanny.

"What will you do if I tell you the truth?" asked Louis in a worried voice.

"That depends on your answer. I'll of course let your Master know that you are here in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania," explained Fanny in a deceptively soft voice.

"What will you do if I refuse?" asked Louis bluntly.

"Well then,Louis, I'll have no other choice but to tell Nancy she's not to see you anymore. If I learn that you have continued to see her despite my orders then you leave me no other choice but to have her sent away from Norland," Fanny explained in a harsh voice.

* * *

Ever since that first evening at Delaford, Marianne had regretted that she had attempted to trick her way to Brandon's bed. _It puzzled her. Did Lieutenant Colonel Brandon no longer find her attractive? Why would her efforts appear to be in vain?... It was almost as if he knew the reason for her eagerness but how could he possibly know that her virtue had been lost to the heir of Allenham? She had not told anyone about her past with Mrs Smith's heir and she was convinced nobody but he knew ... How could Lieutenant Colonel Brandon know that if not even her immediate family knew?_ Not even her older sister Elinor knew that she had given Mrs . Smith's heir her virginity.  
She was convinced that Lieutenant Colonel Brandon accepted her virginity. She had not told anyone about her past with Mrs . Smith's heir.

Occasionally young unmarried women deliberately got themselves pregnant just to secure a future as somebody's wife. Elinor knew all about the different measures desperate unmarried women took just to get themselves married. She too, had been given that advice every year a new season began but Elinor had her morals and she refused to be married for anything but love.

While the two sisters still were guests at Delaford, her sister-in-law Fanny forwarded an invitation from Allenham to attend the engagement party of Mrs . Smith nephew Willoughby. Fanny insisted that both of the sisters attend. They would be escorted there by their host Lieutenant Colonel Brandon.

"It is a great honor to me to that so many friends and acquaintances has decided to grace this special occasion with their presence. The reason for this special occasion is to announce the official engagement of my nephew Mr. Willoughby to none other than Miss Sophia Grey," announced Mrs . Smith, gently turning the glass in her hand. Miss Grey smiled and curtsied deep while Lieutenant Colonel Brandon cleared his throat as he glanced over at Miss Marianne Dashwood.

With a clear, proud voice, Lieutenant Colonel Brandon said, "I believe congratulations are in order since Delaford soon will have a young mistress like Combe Magna will. I want it to be known that Lieutenant Colonel Brandon intends to marry Miss Marianne Dashwood."

Brandon had realized that Miss Marianne must have a valid reason for being so persistent and eager for him to take advantage of her. Even offering herself to him, despite being a middle aged bachelor he had seen his fair share of young ladies and unplanned pregnancies in his past to put two and two together He understood that Marianne's state soon would show. When Miss Dashwood had informed him of the invitation to an engagement party, Brandon considered it a convenient occasion to announce his engagement to Marianne Dashwood. If he waited for too long he feared people might suspect Marianne's firstborn child was conceived out of wedlock. He wanted to protect Marianne from any harm. That being said, he still did not know exactly what man was responsible for Marianne's unborn child.

Could he love Marianne's child as his own if someone else was responsible for getting Marianne pregnant? That Brandon was unsure of, even though he knew that Marianne Dashwood was the only woman he wanted as his wife.

In the corner of his eye, Brandon observed how Willoughby's face changed color and he appeared to clench his teeth. He imagined that he even clenched his fist while in his pocket. Poor Miss Grey burst into tears of pure embarrassment and quickly took off running.

Concerned Brandon noticed something was amiss and soon realized that his beloved Marianne most have fainted. Her older sister Elinor was kneeling on the floor near the body of a young woman. If Brandon's suspicions needed confirmation, the sight of Marianne fainting was enough for him.

"Darling Marianne, are you alright?" asked a concerned Elinor.

"What happened Elinor? Where am I?" asked Marianne as she attempted to get on her feet.

"Everything's alright dear, don't you worry," comforted Elinor.

"Miss Marianne, what's the last thing you remember?" asked Lieutenant Colonel Brandon without taking his eyes off his fiancèe.

"I, I don't remember. I am sorry Lieutenant Colonel Brandon."

"Will someone please summon a physician?" demanded Lieutenant Colonel Brandon.

"Lieutenant Colonel Brandon, are you certain that you want to do that...?" whispered Elinor.

"Oh dear, will your sister be alright,Miss Dashwood?" asked Mrs . Smith.

"The journey was difficult on her. I'm afraid she's hardly gotten any sleep and eaten very little ever since," explained Elinor apologetically.

"If you don't mind I think I should have to go after my nephew's fiancée," continued Mrs . Smith.

"But of course, as you should. And Mrs . Smith let me offer my apologies for my future brother-in-laws inappropriate announcement. Had I known what he was was planning I would have done everything in my power to stop him," continued Elinor.

"I believe you, Miss Dashwood. I suppose any man would be as eager as your future brother-in-law. I know many men that would want to trade places with him. Please allow me to be the first to offer my congratulations to your sister and Lieutenant Colonel Brandon." Mrs . Smith took Elinor's hand in her own and smiled as she hurried to find the emotional Miss Grey.

As usual, the engagement party for Mrs. Smith's nephew turned out to be a feast. The table was filled with freshly picked greengage plums and black walnuts, big bowls were filled to the brim with hot typical peanut soup . There were also blue oysters, Appalachian flying squirrel, sausage, and pork.

"Dear Miss Dashwood, I hope your sister has recovered?" asked Mrs . Smith.

"Mrs . Smith, thank you kindly for your concern. If I know my sister as well as I believe she would not want to miss such a lavish meal as this," Elinor said as everyone's eyes was on her. She began to wish that they had brought Lucy with them since she knew how to prepare Pennsylvania Dutch cuisine much better than her sister, and apple butter, baked apples corn fritters, potato filling, cole slaw, sauerkraut, and gingerbread. More importantly though she was more familiar with using a waffle iron , necessary for making Marianne's favorite waffles served with chicken. She would have to speak to Lieutenant Colonel Brandon to remind him of the fact that the New England diet was starkly different from the Pennsylvania Dutch diet that Marianne was used to. She expected the Lieutenant Colonel to comply to placing regular orders of dairy products, apples, cabbage and potatoes as well as other essential ingredients.

"Tell me, Lieutenant Colonel Brandon, if congratulations should be exchanged in the event of another addition to the Brandon family," Willoughby inquired.

"Well, no more than what you and Miss Grey received for yours. The Brandon family will get another member just as the Willoughbys will," continued Brandon.

"Can we expect to hear news of a Brandon heir in the near future? Perhaps nine months from now or maybe even sooner?" inquired a jealous Willoughby.

Elinor discreetly glanced over at her sister, who for people seemed to have regained her normal health. She then proceeded to glance over at Lieutenant Colonel Brandon and Mr. Willoughby and it appeared as if Lieutenant Colonel Brandon's care and affection towards her sister seemed to only provoke the younger man. Marianne glanced over at the man to her right, which happened to be her fiancé. S _eeing both men together in the same room meant that her mind unconsciously begun to compare the two. The sincere concern and worry for her wellbeing that Lieutenant Colonel Brandon showed her made her come to an understanding that a man that cared so little of his own reputation surely must love her. Obviously everyone would assume she might be expecting when she fainted, but since Lieutenant Colonel Brandon still wanted the proceedings of their marriage to continue only a true gentleman would willingly agree to marry a woman who already was expecting another man's child. She began to greatly admire and respect him for that it was no longer only a union made from unrequited love. She realized she only needed time to heal and forget her past with Willoughby before she was certain she could also offer him her heart._ Ever since that embarrassing situation between them when Marianne failed to get Lieutenant Colonel Brandon to take advantage of her, the two of them never mentioned that incident again. _Marianne could only hope her future husband never would learn the identity of her first lover..._

"Please, Willoughby, that should be none of your concern. It almost sounds as if you want to trade places with Lieutenant Colonel Brandon. You have no reason for such feelings since you have your own fiancée now, " continued Mrs . Smith.

"My point exactly, Mrs . Smith. Besides, once Miss Dashwood marries Lieutenant Colonel Brandon, any out-of-wedlock child will become legitimate. I want everyone to enjoy the fried peaches in butter and brown sugar served with chilled ice cream," continued Miss Grey.

"Yes, the recipe for that is a rare one. It has been in our family ever since the Greys received it from the Governor of Maryland. It will be served at both Allenham and Combe Magna as part of the agreed dowry ," said a delighted Mrs . Smith.

Meanwhile, back at Delaford, the loyalist spy soldier was still imprisoned, and an oblivious Eliza was tending to his every need.

"Forgive me Miss, but was it your child that I heard the other day?" asked Theodore.

"I hope he didn't bother you too much, sir," answered Eliza apologetically.

"Aren't you too young to be a mother? I haven't seen your husband ever since I arrived," continued Theodore and massaged the blood back to his wrists.

"That's because I have none, sir," mumbled Eliza.

"What exactly happened to him?" asked the soldier.

"If you must know, there has never been a father to my child and that may just be for the best," answered Eliza in sharp tone of vice.

"Do you mean to tell me that you don't know who the father is?" asked Theodore as he leaned in closer to Eliza.

"That's correct, sir. My son wasn't exactly planned," whispered Eliza.

"None of them ever are!" declared the soldier.

"I never once regretted having him. Now my son is my everything and there's nothing I wouldn't do for him," explained Eliza.

Theodore knew he soon would be rescued by the colonists and as it soon became clear that young maid was completely oblivious to the plot Theodore almost regretted that he had had to lie to the woman that had treated him as an equal and a friend.


	19. Fraudis

This was not how Miss Dashwood had pictured the return trip back from the Smith's Allenham estate. Elinor had not yet gotten used to the idea that she was the only unmarried daughter of late Mr . John Dashwood's three daughters. It was a somber moment, even though she realized Marianne would have to be married very shortly—to avoid a social scandal. Lieutenant Colonel Brandon and Miss Marianne Dashwood were wed the day before Elinor's departure. Brandon insisted on a smaller wedding—the only two witnesses present at the time were Elinor and Miss Eliza Williams.

Elinor sighed, she did not look forward to relocating to her mother's new home. But until she married, her time would have to be divided between her old home in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and the Province of Rhode Island. She suspected her sister-in-law would prefer if Elinor settled into her mother's new home.

At the respectable yet young age of ten and eight, Elinor realized her future life seemed to be as a spinster. Perhaps her youngest sister Mrs . O'Shannessy eventually would extend an invitation for her to come and stay at her married home. To be honest though, Elinor was realistic—even though both her younger sisters were happily married, they seemed to settle into married life well. " Margaret, or Mrs . O'Shannessy was already a new mother to a son and so would Marianne, before the end of the year.

To Elinor, it seemed as everyone was moving on with their lives after her father's unfortunate death. Even her mother had been married off to an elder widower. A British loyalist, of course; she dreaded the day when news would come about a future birth in the MacTavish family. Elinor's new home—until her eventual marriage—was to be found in the MacTavish Rhode for Island home.

The only one who appeared desperate for things to remain the same was Elinor's sister-in-law Fanny, even though her husband was assumed dead, she behaved as Delaford was her domain—and not that of her only son Harry. If one thing was certain, it was the fact that Fanny Dashwood never would remarry. It had less to do with the fact her husband's death needed to be officially declared and proven beyond doubt, and more to do with the fact that Fanny was used to a certain way of life—a comfortable life, one where she could enjoy a certain social standing, a life in richesse—even a luxurious one, and a reputation that reflected her husband's.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the Province of Rhode Island, Mrs. MacTavish was told Marianne was to be wed to Lieutenant Colonel Brandon and her future home was Delaford. The news would have comforted Mrs . MacTavish—under normal circumstances, that is. Instead, she could only be relieved; currently her husband's only son, young Alistair MacTavish, was battling a serious infection. The physician suspected a severe pneumonia or even consumption. If her husband's only male child died, she feared her husband would insist on visiting her chambers to ensure she eventually conceived a legitimate child. Her husband insisted both his children would refrain from playing with the neighborhood's children—he wanted to protect them, or rather their health. Therefore, both Alistair and Allison's lives were usually very lonely. They were each others' only friends, and only allowed to play quiet indoor games—the ones that could not result in any physical injury or damage to the furniture.

"Annie, I feel so lonely now—especially now when I am withheld the presence of my only friend," confided Allison as she embraced her stepmother.

"Dear child, I wish you would not feel so lonely. I wouldn't dare to go against your Father's strict instructions and I suggest you not to," whispered Mrs . MacTavish and picked the child up and placed her on her knee.

* * *

The news of Miss Marianne's wedding to Lieutenant Colonel Brandon was such news that normally would have been received with joy. Of course it still was—to Mrs Fanny Dashwood. Even young, naive Lucy rejoiced at the news at first. That was before she learned that she was to join Mrs . Brandon in Delaford that was to be her future home. Lucy adored and idolized Miss Marianne, so it was not for that reason that she was hesitant. For all her life—or as long as she could remember—Norland and Philadelphia had been her home. She missed her mistress, the new remarried Mrs . MacTavish, almost as much as she missed her late Master John Dashwood. She had been naive, even though Mr. Dashwood's daughters eventually were to be married, Lucy still took for granted that her home would remain Norland. That she was to stay at Norland alongside her sister...

Joe Ferrars, who had heard the news from Mr. Ferrars had decided he would pay a visit to Norland to find out if the rumor was true and also do his best to prevent it if he could.

"Lucy, please tell me if the rumor about you being sent to Norland is true or not," said a troubled Joe as he stroked his hair.

"I am," Lucy answered, sighing without meeting Joe's worried glances.

"I am worried for you, Lucy. What if the Brandons doesn't treat you nice?" objected Joe and raised his voice.

"Please, Joe, lower your voice," Lucy whispered and nervously looked over her shoulder. "I'm the only who knows how to do with those waffle irons. Ma sister doesn't know how to cook Dutch food as I do," explained Lucy and offered a bright smile.

"But Lucy, do you know if the Brandons have any plans of offering you liberation?" inquired Joe.

"I don't kno' Joe. I'm sorry, I don't kno'," whispered Lucy.

"When will they send you off to Delaford?" asked Joe.

"I'm to go soon. Already after supper," answered Lucy slowly.

"You mean you're leaving tonight?" Joe asked in surprise.

"Yes, Joe, I am," Lucy said and shook her head in resignation.

"Do you think I could steal you away for a moment?" whispered Joe.

"I - I think so," Lucy nodded and placed her hands in Joe's.

Joe had always treated Lucy as a young woman he respected. He was many years older than her so he had learned to control himself. Even so, both Lucy and he knew there had been times when Joe Ferrars behaved less like the gentleman he was. He blamed himself for allowing Lucy's beauty and presence to affect him to the point that he had taken advantage of her. Even though it had occurred several months ago, Joe still remembered it... He realized it most have been Lucy's first time. He, Joe Ferrars, would always be Lucy's first—and it was no secret that he hoped to be her last as well. Ever since he and Lucy spent time alone, he had often inquired about her health from his former owners the Ferrars. Secretly, he hoped that Lucy would fall pregnant with his child. It seemed the only choice he had to possibly convince Lucy to become his wife. He had already inquired about permission of a possible marriage between himself and Lieutenant Colonel Brandon. He had been told by Brandon himself—that if Lucy became pregnant with his child, he was granted permission to make Lucy his wife.

"Lucy, please end my misery!" exclaimed Joe in pure agony.

"No, Joe, please don't ask me to do that," begged Lucy behind tears.

"But why Lucy, why won't you agree to be ma wife?" inquired Joe behind gritted teeth.

"I can't, Joe. And you kno' why," answered Lucy in a low voice as she turned away her eyes.

"Stop being so stubborn, Lucy, please. I've already spoken to your new master and I'll have you know he has given his approval," continued Joe.

"Oh, Joe, how could ya do that !?" Lucy asked rhetorically, her voice cracking.

"Don't you see, you're the only one for me. The only woman I ever would consider marrying," explained Joe in a soft voice as he sat down next to Lucy.

"Joe, please don't do that. I don't believe ya', please stop lying to me. Why would you want 'omeone like me when you could have anyone.." husked Lucy.

"That's simple Lucy, it's you that I love. And I want you to be the mother of my future children," confessed Joe and looked deep into Lucy's captivating, dark eyes. He could feel her heartbeat against the fabric of his shirt. He attempted to wipe Lucy's tears with the sleeve of his shirt.

Lucy suddenly closed her eyes and pouted her lips out. Joe was quick to answer the invitation—and placed the most tender and sincere kiss on her lips. He did not anticipate the feeling of Lucy's soft lips against his, for it had been months. As he answered Lucy's first kiss, he was taken aback by how eager and wanting Lucy seemed to be. It surprised him a great deal. For every kiss Joe gave, Lucy's breath deepened and her lips began to wander away from Joe's own lips...

As one couple was forced to say farewell, another young couple several miles away would soon be forced to the same.

Mr . O'Shennessy pulled his young wife closer—close enough to kiss her.

"Táim brónach," mumbled Mr. O'Shennessy as he placed a tender kiss on his wife's lips.

"Fine, Mr O'Shennessy, you are forgiven—for this time. But I want you to know my conviction stands firm. A married woman's duty is to support her husband, both physically and emotionally," mumbled Margret as she answered her husband's kiss...

They had both agreed that she could join her husband on the battlefield as soon as their firstborn son's first birthday. There was only one thing that could persuade Margaret to postpone her plans of going out in active battles. And that was another pregnancy—as she was not even ten and seven years old she was perfectly content with having just her son. She knew that every time she shared her husband's married bed, there was another chance she could conceive again. Motherhood was something Margaret, never would have envisioned to be in her future. Of course, she realized that children usually was a direct consequence of marriage. Once the war was over—not before—would she ask her husband to have another child. A sister, or a brother for their oldest son...

* * *

Elinor Dashwood arrived at her new home in the Province of Rhode Island. She was happy for a change of scenery and tired of news of her sisters' married bliss. Elinor hoped she would not have to hear any news of engagements or marriages for the foreseeable future, or for as long as she remained with her mother and stepfather.

"Miss Dashwood, is it true you are related to the Ferrars from New York?" asked Allison bluntly.

"Yes, it appears so. My step brother's wife was born a Ferrars," explained Elinor and hugged her mother.

Mrs. MacTavish subtly gestured an apology for the young girl's words.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Miss Dashwood. We should have extended an open invitation for you to visit us much sooner," attempted Mr MacTavish.

"Please, Mr . MacTavish, don't be so formal. Aren't we family now?" asked Elinor.

"Yes, and please consider my home yours, and don't be afraid to ask for anything," answered a relieved Mr . MacTavish.

"Mother, I do hope you are well. You look fine," Elinor slowly said. She lowered her voice and whispered, "Are you getting along with your husband's two children? Have he mentioned the wish for a legitimate heir yet..?" inquired Elinor and turned her head back at Mr . MacTavish.

"Mama Annie received news the other day regarding an engagement between a Mr. Ferrars and Miss Amelia Grey," Allison blurted out.

* * *

Back at Delaford, the Massachusetts militia were patiently waiting for their plan to be set in motion. All the while, the British loyalists were carefully observing the militia men's activity. So far, it seemed as if everything they had predicted eventually had happened. Theodore seemed to fulfill his role as a captured militia man very well. He had received news of his liberation attempt the other day, he knew it would have to happen eventually. Yet now, he did not look forward to it. The reason for that was a young mulatto woman named Eliza. Once he was liberated, he knew news of his betrayal soon would become known. He feared the day Eliza would find out that everything he had confided in her was nothing but pure lies.

 _Dear Miss Williams,_

 _I wish I could have stayed and built a future with you._

 _Helped you raise your son—not that you appeared to need any._

 _And maybe even married you and seen you as the mother of my future children._

 _Sadly we don't appear to be each other's destiny._

 _Whatever you hear about me I want you to know that I am an honorable honest hardworking man._

 _My feelings—no, the love you probably felt—were never part of my lies or the deceit._

 _I would have offered you marriage. I would still like to ask for your hand in marriage._

 _I also adore the son of yours and would happily have raised him as if he was my very own._

 _I will always love you, my sweet darling Eliza._

 _I know I am in no position to ask anything of you._

 _But my darling, I beg you to forgive me, and if you could, to wait for me._

 _I promise to return to you once the war is over._

 _—Your faithful soldier_


	20. Ultima ratio requim

Meanwhile, at Allenham, everyone in the British colonies was well aware of the fact that Mrs Smith's nephew was a womanizer. Soon enough, it was assumed Willoughby would have to reap what he once had sowed. It seemed as if that day, would arrive sooner than anyone expected. As far as Mrs . Smith knew, her only heir and nephew was as near perfection as anyone could be. Of course, even Willoughby had vices, and to Mrs Smith, Willoughby's only vice was his reluctance to marry. She worried for the future if her beloved Allenham. What good was a legitimate male heir if he always insisted on maintaining his status as a bachelor?

Mrs Smith, had gotten very fond of Miss Marianne Dashwood, the only woman Willoughby ever had introduced to her and even invited to both Allenham as well as Combe Magna. The news of Miss Marianne's engagement and upcoming wedding troubled her a great deal, to the best of her knowledge Willoughby was not known for several infatuations and not even a blind or deaf man could ignore Willoughby's affection and admiration for the young, beautiful daughter of Pennsylvania.

As soon as the last guests had got into their carriage—Mrs . Smith, announced it had been a splendid engagement party. Mrs Smith was standing just outside the door, she just closed behind her...

When Miss Grey suddenly burst out at Willoughby with tears in her eyes.

"Mr Willoughby, do you honestly think I am a fool!? Even before I wrote you that letter, I knew—as well as every British colonist that you not too long ago seemed to already have chosen the future Mrs Willoughby and mistress of Combe Magna, and eventually Allenham. Just tell me one thing—are you responsible for Miss Dashwood's precarious situation or not?"

Willoughy sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please, Mr . Willoughby, do not try to be coy with me. John Willoughby, instead of lying to me, I much rather would prefer to hear the truth from you," continued Sophia and placed her hands on her hips as she looked defiantly at her future husband.

A moment's silence followed, Willoughby cleared his throat and swallowed hard.

"Dearest Sophia, I will, if only you calm down first. If I answer you, you have my word that I will answer truthfully, yet I fear even the truth might not be good enough to convince you of my innocence," he mumbled.

"So, you do in fact deny it, then? Am I to believe that Lieutenant Colonel Brandon, actually is the de facto father of Miss Dashwood's illegitimate child..." she asked as her heart began to beat faster inside her chest.

"I wish you—you of all people could believe my word. If Miss Dashwood actually is pregnant do not think she would have informed me of the fact? Why on earth would Lieutenant Colonel Brandon officially announce his intent to marry Miss Dashwood—if she had been carrying my child?" asked Willoughby as he heard his voice crack.

"Forgive me, please, dear Willoughby. To avoid any further rumors, I want you to know that until we are legally wed, I refuse to be unchaperoned around you," declared Miss Grey.

 _Willoughby regretted that he allowed himself to be lured into robbing Miss Dashwood of something that was supposed to be Lieutenant Colonel Brandon's. If he had managed to control himself around her, or never been unchaperoned, then perhaps he would have dared to ask for Miss Dashwood's hand in marriage._ As it was, he had long since been prevented from doing such a thing. Because of what happened between the two of them last Easter, Miss Dashwood was going to be the future mistress of Delaford. She was never going to be Mrs . Willoughby, never become mistress of either Allenham or Combe Magna, and she would never share his bed. Never be the last person he saw before he went to sleep or the very first person he saw as soon as he woke up. No, Marianne Dashwood would never be a mother to his future children... For once, Willoughby could not hide or escape his own fate. It was his own actions that now made it impossible for him to even think such thoughts regarding another man's intended wife.

Not to mention that he was officially engaged to Miss Sophia Grey. Had it not been for Miss Dashwood, Willoughby would have been perfectly fine with the prospects of marrying one of Maryland's finest. But Miss Marianne Dashwood had happened to him, and now it was clear she had ruined him beyond repair. He had questioned what the sudden urgency was behind Lieutenant Colonel Brandon's rather rushed announcement of his intent to marry Miss Marianne Dashwood... _Could it be..? If Miss Dashwood fainted was the cause behind it the first stage of a pregnancy..? If Miss Dashwood happened to be with child—was the child his?_

If Marianne willingly had allowed him to get as close to her as only a husband should, then he presumed that she also could have allowed Lieutenant Colonel Brandon to get to know her on the same intimate level. Therefore it seemed just as likely that Marianne's supposed child also could be fathered by the Lieutenant Colonel... Perhaps Marianne knew she had to make Brandon believe he was the father of her unborn child to protect her dignity and reputation, as well as her unborn child... Maybe, just maybe, not even she knew who the father of her unborn child was.

"Willoughby, John Willoughby. Please listen to me," demanded Sophia.

"Yes, my dear, what is the matter?" asked a distraught Willoughby.

"I suppose I could accept that Miss Dashwood's firstborn child might be fathered by you. It will still get Miss Dashwood's married name, especially since Lieutenant Colonel Brandon seemingly agreed to go through with the engagement," continued Sophia.

"Miss Grey, please, why should Miss Dashwood and Brandon be of any concern to you?" he inquired as he raised an eyebrow.

"Then, Willoughby, look into my eyes and convince me that you never loved Miss Dashwood," she demanded and gave a smug smile.

Willoughby moaned as if he was in physical pain. "Anything but that, please, Miss Grey. Have I not agreed to make you my wife, do you no longer fancy being mistress of Combe Magna? Would you rather we moved to my aunt's Allenham estate?" he asked as he let out a sigh.

"So you mean to say—I will have everything, except your heart and love then," she concluded.

"Miss Grey, please—both of us knew the terms of our marriage beforehand. It certainly was not made out of love. More similar to a mere business transaction—do you not concur, Miss Grey? I only accepted your proposed engagement in exchange for your silence," Willoughby coldly said.

"I suppose you never would have hesitated if Miss Dashwood's father never passed. Hold on—if late Mr . Dashwood still was alive you most likely never would have had a chance to meet Miss Marianne Dashwood," she said as she put her hands together in excitement.

"I will confess to nothing! Especially since we have yet to legally wed! Miss Dashwood's dowry would have been more generous if late Mr . Dashwood had not been killed in Trenton," he stated.

"Mr . Willoughby, I think there will be no objections to the idea of us having separate beds?" insinuated Sophia.

"I suppose so, if that truly is what you want. If my aunt ever finds out that we have separate bedrooms I believe her heart will be crushed," whispered he.

"Not to worry, future husband of mine. I will not deny you your marital rights," she said and smiled. "I will visit your chambers and share your bed on our wedding anniversary as well as your birthday. You are allowed into my bed on my birthday," she calmly explained.

Mr . Willoughby and Miss Grey were expected to accept the invitation to celebrate the wedding of Mr . Ferrars and Miss Morton. In public and among friends, Miss Grey pretended to be as infatuated with him as Miss Dashwood once appeared to be. She even succeeded in fooling him—making him believe she was perfectly fine with marrying a man whose soul and heart lusted for someone else. Behind closed doors, Miss Grey's insults and accusations continued.

So this was the price he had to pay for his youth's biggest mistake. What would he not have done to trade places with Lieutenant Colonel Brandon. Only one day alone with Miss Dashwood would have satisfied his yearnings, now when he knew it was forbidden.

He wondered about Marianne's firstborn child again—wondered if it would resemble him in any way. Or if it would take after his beloved Marianne. If the child was Brandon's he tried to picture a child with Marianne's dark eyes and curly shiny hair with Brandon's chiseled face. A child with Brandon's nose, cheek bones, and strong chin. He failed to envision such a child: _instead, he began to see his Marianne in Brandon's arms..._

"Welcome to the Ferrars Iron Nest!" exclaimed Robert and exchanged a soft warm smile with Miss Morton.

"Please make yourself at home. Any friend of my husband—soon to be husband—is a friend of mine," continued Amelia and blushed.

"The pleasure is shared by me and my intended," Sophia said and smiled as she curtsied.

"Of course, I still worry and care for my older brother. Had it not been for Captain Ferrars' desertion at Trenton my future prospects would not be as fortunate," whispered Mr . Ferrars as he constantly glanced at his mother.

"I, for one, am very relieved that your mother agreed to honor your prodigal brother's accepted marriage arrangement, " Miss Grey said in a soft, tender voice.

"As am I! My beloved Amelia, but my brother will always be my brother. He will always be welcome her—once our mother either dies or has a change of heart and forgives him," stated Robert.

"Unfortunately, since the winter season soon is upon us we cannot serve anything that would compare to the feast I heard you offered guests at Allenham, " apologized Miss Morton.

"Not to worry though—my dear, I think you forget that we have plenty of white bread to offer everyone as a starter. Followed by a delicious autumn salad of regional varies vegetables such as pickles, turnips, cabbage, carrots, parsnip, peas, cucumber, and corn. As a main dish, we treat guests to our regional specialty potted and jerked beer, or if you prefer, potted and jerked venison, a smaller selection of sausages, beef tripe, and different cuts of horse meat. Before the dessert courses, we have the pleasure of treating everyone to pop corn. The savory dessert option tonight is cheese, while the sweet option is mudpie, and a smaller selection of jam and sweetbread," Miss Morton said as she motioned towards the set table.

"Of course, we also offer our guests something to drink. We have both cider and beer, and thanks to Mrs . Dashwood we can even treat guests to imported wine and rare European brandy," continued Robert, laughing.

Mr . Ferrars and Miss Morton seemed to the objects of each others' affection. It made poor Sophia envy them for having something that she never would experience herself. She was slightly comforted by the fact that everything could change in a generation. Perhaps Miss Morton would fail to give her future husband male heirs—or perhaps the next Ferrars generation only would be daughters... Of course, Sophia would not rest until their wedding had been consummated and she had given birth to at least one male heir. She felt indifferent towards her future husband, yet she knew her duties and what was expected of her. She sometimes worried that Willoughby, either was oblivious or naive to the consequences of his actions...

* * *

On the night of December 25–26, 1776, General George Washington, Commander-in-Chief of the Continental Army, led 2,400 men across the Delaware a nine-mile march, they seized the town of Trenton on the morning of the 26th, killing or wounding over 100 Hessians and capturing 900 more. Soon after capturing the town, Washington led the army back across the Delaware into Pennsylvania.

The British army led by Mawhood and Cornwallis was completely dumbfounded, they relied on Theodore's rapports. _Had it not been for a certain Miss Eliza Williams, Theodore's latest rapports would have arrived in time. If it had Washington's attack would not have taken the British by surprise..._

* * *

Meanwhile back at Norland desperate times called for desperate matters. As Marianne Dashwood would have to be married to prevent her giving birth to an illegitimate child. Nancy finally reluctantly realized that perhaps Louis was right. That meant her younger sister Lucy also had been right...

"Nancy, 'ave you changed your mind?," asked Lous with a hopeful smile.

"Yeah, Louis I 'ave. I'll go to live Miss Elinor," she sighed.

"No, Nancy you won't. You'll see. I'll make you 'ave ma baby," objected he.

"But Louis, you remember your promise?" she asked worriedly as her heart began to pound more heavily in her chest.

"'Course I do Nancy. I love you, " he declared and took his thumb and slowly moved it on top of Nancy's lips.

"You'll marry me when war is over?" she repeated as she gasped for air. Louis silently nodded, as he seemed to struggle with Nancy's underskirts.


	21. Alterius hominis

By the month of November, the family physician recommended that Mrs Brandon enter her confinement by the second part of December. Lieutenant Colonel Brandon looked forward to the sound of childrens' voices in his home—it had been nearly decades since he heard it last. Of course that was not exactly true—Miss Williams' secret birth of a mulatto son had been the first.

The future for Delaford and the surname Brandon had not appeared too bright. The last time a Brandon heir was born had been nearly four decades ago. For the future survival of his surname and the Delaford estate, Brandon knew a legitimate male heir was essential. On a personal level, he feared that Marianne's first child would be a son when he secretly hoped for a daughter. The thought of raising another man's daughter was slightly easier to bear than the prospects of raising someone else's son. Especially if the daughter resembled Marianne—it was less likely anyone would question the paternity of a daughter. Regardless of the child's gender, it would always be Marianne's child.

His young bride may be significantly younger —yet the thought of parenthood scared Brandon almost as much as the prospects of raising an other man's child as his own. He therefore hoped Marianne's firstborn child would be a daughter—not a son. That way the unborn child would not serve as a constant reminder of his wife's past. He had already chosen a name for his daughter—she would be christened Marianne after her mother, but he would always call her Rosemary. Not that Brandon ever mentioned that to Mrs Brandon—it was still considered to bring bad luck to the expecting mother and the unborn child.

"Please, inform me at once when Mrs Brandon's labor starts!" he had insisted.

"Of course, Brandon. I promise you will be the first to know," Eliza assured him.

A few weeks passed and December was approching and with it the end of 1776. The family physician was calling on Mrs . Brandon once a week now. The soon to be father insisted upon it. When the family physician announced that he predicted that the birth of Mrs . Brandon's firstborn was near Lieutenant Colonel Brandon was becoming more concerned and impatient.

"I insist you also let me know if our firstborn is daughter or a son," he continued.

Fortunately for the Delaford inhabitants Brandon happened to be out on an arrend - which was rather rare. _He reluctantly wanted to leave Delaford since there was a new baby on the way. Brandon had never neglected his duties or responsabilities towards the neighborhood and he knew he could not start now. If he delibrately decided to let Mr . Yvon take care of his business he predicted that he would want to be present every time his younger wife was expected to give birth. That simply could not be, not when his wife as healthy and young as she was. Mrs . Marianne Brandon was only ten and seven and Brandon knew some women could still concieve healthy children well over their fourthieth birthday. That meant that Mrs . Brandon potentially could bear children for another thirty years. He quickly did some headcounting, if God was willing he might live to see his 66th birthday._

Brandon did not return to Boston, or Delaford before later in the evening when the sun had began to set. By then one of his workers told him Mrs . Brandon already had given birth. He quickly ushered his horse. In his head he pictured Marianne alone and scared - never having experienced childbirth before. He shook his head - it was unfortunate that his wife's family was estranged. Mrs . Dashwood was remarried to a Scouthish Loyalist and lived in Rhode Island. Marianne's younger sister Margaret had run away and married an Irish patriot two years ago now. The middle sister Elinor still lived with their mother's new family yet there was stubborn rumors that said Miss Elinor Dashwood was expected to marry another Scottish Loyalist. Marianne had not seen her older sister Elinor since their visit to Delaford, Margaret she had last seen when she visited Norland with her newborn son. As for her own mother last time she saw her was just before Easter. Neither of the four of them had heard a sign that indicated that their older stepbrother still was alive. Fanny Dashwood, was the only other woman Marianne knew that was familiar with pregnancies and childbirths. Brandon knew Mrs . Dashwood wanted as little as possible to do with her estranged husband's family.

As soon as Marianne heard the familar sound Brandon's footsteps she let out a relieved smile and prepared herself to see her husband. She was slightly worried she knew that everyone at Delaford was expecting her to give birth to a son - a legitimate Brandon heir.

"My dear, please forgive me for not making you the father of a son," whispered Marianne.

"Hush, now Mrs Brandon—you could never disappoint me," he answered with a thick voice as tears began running from the corners of his eyes.

"Then please inform the reason for your tears—are those tears of joy or misery?" she worriedly inquired. He was relieved to learn that his beloved Marianne had given birth to a daughter. A daughter he could learn to love especially if she resembled his young wife. Since the newborn daughter was conceived out of wedlock, he was not obliged to have her enrolled in the West Nottingham Academy in Colora, Maryland. More importantly, it was still not socially accepted for daughters to receive any kind of formal education. He was certain that Eliza would agree on nursing Marianne's daughter as well—perhaps he would not need to seek a separate wet-nurse for the newborn girl. Brandon realized, however, that the little one would need a nanny and a governess eventually if she ever was to have a chance of entering the season in Boston and one day—hopefully—be married. Even though Lieutenant Colonel Brandon was considered a distinguished man, he could still only afford to send his firstborn son to a private boarding school. A second son would have to seek a position in the British Royal army, a third son in the British Royal Marine force, a fourth son could possibly become a lawyer, a fifth son either doctor or a clergyman, a sixth son a farmer, a seventh son a baker, blacksmith or a carpenter.

Marianne allowed Brandon to choose the name for her newborn daughter. Little Marianne Rose was born on the last day of 1776. Her godmothers were Mrs . Fanny Ferrars, and Miss Elinor Dashwood, and the godfather was Mr . Brandon.

* * *

Meanwhile, Mrs . Brandon's remarried mother Mrs . MacTavish was currently experiencing another side of married life. Annie realized how fortunate she was that her first husband had loved her from the moment they first met. She was grateful that late Mr . Dashwood had been a caring and loving father to all of their three daughters. Late Mr Dashwood did not care that his second wife never managed to give him a spare son. Through Mr Dashwood's firstborn son John, the family name Dashwood would still manage to continue for at least another generation. The future of Norland was therefore not threatened. But that comfortable privilege was no longer part of her current life. It was now part of her past...

"I know that you probably would have wanted all your daughters to marry colonists, wife. Seeing that I'm your current husband and a British loyalist, I think you will understand that I cannot approve of such a union for your eldest daughter. I happen to have a nephew—around the same age as Miss Dashwood. I know he has been looking for a suitable young woman to marry," explained Mr . MacTavish.

"Naturally, dearest. Allow me to say I am very fortunate that you consider my Elinor not only worthy of your help, but a suitable match for your nephew. I am forever grateful towards you," Mrs . MacTavish said, nodding in silent agreement.

"My nephew, Mr Ruari Erskine,happens to be my legal heir and the future owner of this estate, in the unfortunate event of lack of sons" he stated coldly.

"Oh, please Mr . MacTavish - do you mean to say that your estate as well is subject of being turned, " whispered the wife and twisted her hands that lay in her lap.

"Unfortunately it is so, so I hope you understand that it is vital that my firstborn son eventually regains his health. Otherwise all hope rests on you to give me a male heir," he stated calmly.

"Forgive me, husband, there are still no news," she whispered, looking down onto her hands in shame.

"That's most unfortunate,my dear. I suppose it is expected. Late Mrs . MacTavish was twice your age when she expected our second Allison. If I am not mistaken, you actually married your late husband young and had had your three daughters before the age of five and twenty," he continued. _He hoped he never would experience the loss of a child—not when he already lost his young wife just three years into their marriage. He had distanced himself from his son—at a time when his son needed him the most. As for his daughter, straight after the premature death of his wife, he blamed their newborn daughter for her mother's death._ As the two children grew up, they both got accustomed to being cared for different nannies and governesses. They rarely saw their father; they never knew who their own mother was.

"I think you will be much relieved to know that our firstborn son will be enrolled in the Choir School of Glasgow Cathedral in his late stepbrother's stead ," he explained.

"As the de facto mother of your second son, I feel it is my duty to speak up. I sincerely hope you have not planned to keep your current wife separated from her child too soon after birth. A newborn needs their mother's care and attention, " she insisted.

"Dear Mrs . MacTavish, you seem to forget that your social standing prevents you from standing behind the stove. Second, you are only Alistair's and Allison's stepmother who happens not to be Scottish. Of course I expect our future children to be familiar with traditional Scottish cuisine, but I can afford to hire another Scottish kitchenmaid," he reprimanded.

"I wish you would allow me into the domains of the kitchen! At least so I could learn to cook traditional haggis. Young children should not be deprived of their mothers's own cooking," she vividly objected.

* * *

On the 29th, Washington once again led the army across the river, and established a defensive position at Trenton. On the 31st, Washington appealed to his men, whose enlistments expired at the end of the year, "Stay for just six more weeks for an extra bounty of ten dollars." His appeal worked, and most of the men agreed to stay. That day, Washington also learned that Congress had voted to give him wide-ranging powers—often described as dictatorial—for six months.

During the night, Washington called a council of war and asked his officers whether they should stand and fight, attempt to cross the river somewhere, or take the backroads to attack Princeton. Although the idea had already occurred to Washington, he learned from two of his men that his plan to attack Princeton was indeed possible. Two intelligence collection efforts, both of which came to fruition at the end of December 1776, supported such a surprise attack. After consulting with his officers, they agreed that the best option was to attack Princeton.

Washington ordered that the excess baggage be taken to Burlington where it could be sent to Pennsylvania. The ground had frozen, making it possible to move the artillery without it sinking into the ground. By midnight, the plan was complete, with the baggage on its way to Burlington and the guns wrapped in heavy cloth to stifle noise and prevent the British from learning of the evacuation. Washington left 500 men behind with two cannon to patrol, keep the fires burning, and to work with picks and shovels to make the British think that they were digging in. Before dawn, these men were to join up with the main army.

By 2:00 AM the entire army was in motion roughly along Quaker Bridge Road through what is now Hamilton Township. The men were ordered to march in absolute silence. Along the way, a rumor was spread that they were surrounded and some frightened militiamen fled for Philadelphia. The march was difficult, as some of the route ran through thick woods and it was icy, causing horses to slip, and men to break through ice on American guns opened fire onto the British, who were preparing to attack, and the guns were able to hold them off for several was able to get one company to fire a volley but it fled immediately afterwards. At this point, Washington arrived with the Virginia Continentals and Edward Hand's riflemen. Washington ordered the riflemen and the Virginians to take up a position on the right hand side of the hill and then Washington quickly rode over to some fleeing men.

Washington, with his hat in his hand, rode forward and waved the Americans forward, while he rode ahead on his horse. At this point, Mawhood had moved his troops slightly to the left to get out of the range of the American artillery fire. Washington gave orders not to fire until he gave them the signal, and when they were thirty yards away, he turned around on his horse, facing his men. At this moment, the British also fired, obscuring the field in a cloud of smoke.

* * *

Joe Ferrars happened to pass by the Ferrars Iron Nest. He was oblivious to the fact that Mr . Edward Ferrars had deserted and just as unaware of the fact that the same man was disinherited. Therefore none of the residents ever expected that the only fred worker would dare to show their face again. Had it not been for the eldest Ferrars male the indentured worker known as Joe would never have been aworded his freedom. Mrs . Ferrars knew that, just as Mrs . Dashwood was painfully aware of the same.

One of the first matters of business that Miss Amelia Grey dared to medle in was the subject of the male indentured worker Joe. Now when Robert Ferrars not only was the Ferrars future heir but also her intended husband. Amelia hoped that it might be possible to take back Edward's decison to free Joe.

"What business do you have here?", asked an indentured worker in a suspicious tone of voice.

"Excuse me, I'm Joe. Joe Ferrars. One of the sons helped to liberate me."

"Of course, I heard about you. Everyone here has,"continued the woman,impatiently tapping her foot.

"I was hoping to be able to call upon Mr . Ferrars, I want to pay him my respect especially since I know I kind of am in debt to him," he continued , he sensed the athmosphere was changed. That made him nervous...

"Haven't you heard? The natural Ferrars heir has been disowned and the new heir is the younger Mr Robert Ferrars." Explained the woman and crossed her shoulders as she looked upon the shaby man with disgust.

Joe Ferrars looked over his shoulders and was soon on his feet, he took of running as soon as he realized it was a mistake of him to come back to New York. He quickly decided that he was going to visit the only person that would be able to grant Lucy her freedom. That meant he would have to go to Boston and the Delaford estate. He should be nervous he knew what he was asking for from a man he never met. The fact that the Master of Delaford recently had sworn his loyality towards the British Joe assumed that man was their only chance to ever be togheter.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant Colonel Brandon, I came here to confirm that you indeed will offer Lucy her release as previously agreed."

"No, Joe—unfortunately, I'm not in a position to grant Lucy her freedom, though she would be the first I'd liberate. Lucy is the property of Mrs . Brandon," explained the Lieutenant Colonel.

* * *

 _Washington reported his own army's casualties as 6 or 7 officers and 25 to 30 enlisted men killed, giving no figures for the report states that the Americans had "30 enlisted men and 14 officers killed"; gives 10 officers and 30 enlisted men killed; Edward G. Lengel gave total casualties as 25 killed and 40 wounded. The Loyalist newspapers, the New York Gazette and Weekly Mercury, reported on January 17, 1777 that the American losses at Princeton had been 400 killed and wounded._

Margaret knew she was not like any typical Irish wife, and to be honest, that suited her fine. It was unfortunate that her young husband's late mother had been dead and buried for ten years—the Irish family recipes were traditionally passed from mothers and daughters and shared between paternal mother-in-laws and their daughter-in-laws. It was something Margaret most likely never would get a chance to experience or learn. Fortunately though, her next-door neighbor Mrs . Kennedy happened to be Irish, and soon enough, she shared her own family's traditional Irish recipes. Margret planned to surprise her husband with some black pudding , colcannon, and shepherd's pie once he returned home. To celebrate the ending of the current war, she was going to serve Irish barmbrack as a celebratory meal As soon as she had learned the recipe for oatmeal, she was going to serve that for breakfast for her husband, and on holidays she was going to feed him a full Irish breakfast. Unfortunately though, the last time Mr . O'Shennessy was seen alive was before he left to join the American forces at Princeton. The food that Margret carefully planned to surprise her husband with was instead served on his funeral, which was a small consolation. At least her son would be raised on his mother's Irish cooking.


	22. Impactibus perforatis a bello

After entering Princeton, the Americans began to loot the abandoned British supply wagons and the town. After receiving news that Cornwallis was approaching, Washington knew he had to leave Princeton. Washington wanted to push onto New Brunswick and capture a British pay chest of 70,000 pounds, but Major Generals Henry Knox and Nathanael Greene talked him out of it. Instead, Washington moved his army to Somerset Courthouse on the night of January 3, then marched to Pluckemin by January 5, and arrived at Morristown by sunset the next day. Because of winter Cornwallis abandoned many of his posts in New Jersey, and ordered his army to retreat to New Brunswick.

General Sir William Howe's official casualty report for the battle stated 18 killed, 58 wounded and 200 missing.

* * *

 _Dear Miss Dashwood._

 _Allow me to express my deepest regrets for neglecting to invite you to Mr . Ferrars and Miss Morton's engagement party. That is my responsibility alone, both you and Mrs . Brandon were near and dear to my late husband. With your mother's remarriage, for a moment I thought you no longer was a member of the Ferrars family. That was wrong of me. You, Mrs . Brandon, and even Mrs . O'Shennessy will always be my late husband's younger sisters. I sincerely hope you will be able to forget forget this horrendous mistake as I cordially invite you to attend the wedding ceremony seeing that you were left out from attending their engagement party._

 _Sincerely, Mrs . Fanny Dashwood_

So it was true then! Edward Ferrars seemed to have made his secret engagement official. Elinor let out a pained cry. _Had she only imagined all those years that Edward's affection and kindness towards her had been sincere"...Had Edward's affection been nothing more than kindness?_ As the oldest Dashwood daughter, she would have beenexpected to marry before her two younger sisters. Unfortunately, the American Revolution had forced people to adjust their lives accordingly or choose to wait until everything was back to normal. Elinor, of course, chose to wait and hope everything would settle down and return to normal. Both her younger sisters were now married mothers, while Elinor had not even received as much as an offer for her hand in marriage. _She had believed Edward loved her in his subtle, awkward way—Edward being her stepbrother's younger brother-in-law meant they already knew each other._ Unlike Marianne, _Elinor rarely allowed people to come close to her. For Edward, she had made a rare exception—she quickly determined he was kind, generous and forgiving, qualities his older sister clearly lacked._ Edward obviously did not reciprocate her feelings—why else had he decided to enter into a promise of marriage to another younger, wealthier , and prettier woman? _Perhaps she would be the one engaged to Mr . Ferrars if she only dared to open her mouth—but she thought she did not have to verbally express her feelings towards someone she assumed felt the same way. Maybe Marianne was right, if she only had dared to express exactly how she felt about Edward, how she could not live without him..._

* * *

"Joe, Joe! Please come over here ," whispered a nearby voice from behind the shrubbery.

"Mr . Ferrars, it that you? What are you doing here?" asked Joe.

"Please lower your voice, Joe. Ever since mother disowned me, I've been on the run. Tell me, please, is the rumor of Miss Dashwood's engagement true or not?"continued Edward as he looked over his shoulder.

"Well, Mr . Ferrars, I don't kno' exactly. She might be for all I know. Just as she could not," answered Joe and shook his head.

"I was afraid that Miss Dashwood's wedding was already set—or worse, that she was already married ," sighed Edward.

"Late Mr . Dashwood was a patriot and Mrs . Dashwood's new husband Mr . MacTavish is both a loyalist and Scottish man as is his nephew Mr . Erskine," answered Joe in a failed attempt to ease Edward's worry.

* * *

Meanwhile Mrs . MacTavish she was suspiciousof the recent signs of Nancy's declining health... If she did not know better she could have sworn that Nancy soon would be a mother like she already had become three times.

"Nancy, dear, I really hope you like your new home even though I know it's starkly different from Norland. I assume you miss your younger sister—please don't hesitate to tell me whenever you would like to write Lucy a letter. I want us to be friends, Nancy, and I hope you feel the same," Mrs . Mactavish said in a warm tone of voice.

"You're to kind to me, Mrs . MacTavish," objecte Nancy and curtsied.

"Please Nancy, there's no need for you to use my married name at least not when it's only us," protested Marianne.

"I, I understand, ma'am," whispered Nancy.

"I am honestly concerned for your declining health and now I would very much like to know if your symptoms are due to the drastic change of environment and the fact that your sister is no longer with you. Or if they are the first physical signs of something not so serious. Something that might disappear, in say, seven to six months' time," she suggested.

Usually a pregnancy among indentured workers was seen as something positive—it meant another addition to the slave owner's workforce and an added source of income. But ever since Mrs . MacTavish's remarriage, her new husband had counted every passing month, and with it, his disappointment increased. She did not look forward in having to tell her resentful, suspicious and jealous husband of the news. _Maybe she did not have to—perhaps nature should be allowed to run its course_...

"Mam', I don't understand. What is it that you attempt to imply?" asked Nancy, raising her voice.

"Nancy, please, I hope you would feel that you at least could trust me, if you for some reason feel you cannot trust my husband... What I'm trying to say is that if someone has not been nice to you, do not hesitate to tell me. As a young attractive woman, you should be careful and never go out on your own after dark," she advised.

* * *

Back at Delaford, the mysterious letter Eliza received seemed to be quite a surprise to her. She struggled to understand it—of course she was flattered to hear her presence made a lasting impact on the captured soldier. Yet the fact that he too, failed to confess his true feelings towards her was a situation that was far too familiar to young Eliza. _She knew she could not allow herself to repeat her previous mistake—not even if that mistake had given her her son. She was a mother now and her son was her first and only priority—as far as her personal life went, she now lived for her son. Yet could she afford not to answer the captured soldier's supposedly heartfelt letter... She was still young, so she still had time on her side to try to find somebody better. Had the circumstances of their meeting been significantly different, she might have considered confiding in Brandon... But not now, not when her beau was an enemy soldier._ Besides, Brandon was preoccupied enjoying married life and attempting to adjust to life as a new father to a daughter. In times like these, it was not even certain that her secret beau would survive until the ending of the current war... So what was poor Eliza to do? _Should she go against her better judgement and attempt to send the enemy soldier a letter, or not...?_


	23. Memiam vota

The day Sophia, Mrs . Smith and Charlotte Marron had been anxiously waiting for was here at last. _Sophia could not help but feel proud that her resilience to keep her cap on Mr . Willoughby had not been in vain._ To humor her, her fiancé Mr . Willoughby had decided to dress up in Sophia's favorite color that was a surprise the soon-to-be Mrs . Willoughby was not aware of. _She smiled to herself as she imagined how starkly different Willoughby's married life would be._ She had persuaded his aunt, Mrs . Smith, to hold the wedding ceremony at Combe Magna instead of Allenham, Willoughby's own estate. _Knowing all too well what he stood to lose if Sophia ever revealed what she knew about him,he needed a reminder of what the consequences most likely would lead to._ Because Willoughby was an impulsive, sensitive, and emotional man that was known to make decisions with his heart instead of head and logic... _In time Sophia would be the new mistress of Combe Magna. She was convinced of it, especially since Willoughby happened to be Mrs . Smith's maternal nephew and only male heir_...

"Sweet sister,are you aware of the fact that you managed to capture the most eligible bachelor not only within New Jersey and Virginia but also in the entire New England?" exclaimed Sophia's sister, and gasped as she saw Sophia's lavish and elaborate white silk wedding dress.

"Of course I am, Charlotte dear. I know exactly who I stand to marry. The question is if he is worthy of me to have me as his wife", ," she answered and smiled as she looked at her image in the mirror.

"I seem to have underestimated you, sweet Sophia. It sounds as if you may have an ulterior motive with this marriage..." Charlotte answered as she began brushing Sophia's golden locks.

"I would not know anything of that,but what I do know is this: Willoughby's life will be altered with the arrival of his wife. And all the memories from his past as a bachelor and womanizer will effectively end today," warned Sophia and hushed as she placed her index finger in front of her mouth.

Willoughby smiled as soon as he saw his fiancée in her pristinewhite silk dress. He walked confidently over towards Miss Grey and placed her hands in between his own."I, John Willoughby , take thee, Sophia Grey, for my wife, to love and cherish,til death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my faith."

She blushed and smiled towards her soon to be husband. "I, Sophia Grey, take you, John Willoughby, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

Father Randall smiled towards the young married couple. Sophia blushed slightly as John, her John, pressed his lips onto hers. For the obligatory kiss, she chuckled to herself—she was finally Mrs . Willoughby. _Yet she grew slightly concerned over the fact that no wedding ceremony was confirmed until the married couple spent the wedding night together. They needed to share the same bed and even though she was familiar with all of her husband's many conquests before her the fact that she still was a virgin worried her slightly... What if her husband never laid his hands on her... what if she woke up the next day without having consummated their marriage. What if he insisted on the two of them beginning their married life in separate rooms...?She could only hope Willoughby would not be as cruel... Now that she finally had succeeded in becoming Mrs. Willoughby, it dawned upon her that she had lost her advantage over him the moment the two of them were legally wed_. From now on, Willoughby would always have the final word; his opinions and beliefs became that of her own. Even though she was legally Mrs . Willoughby now, she would have to accept that she always would come second after her husband. She might be able to make decisions concerning her husband's estate, but the servants would most likely need anything she said to be confirmed by Willoughby. Sophia sighed as the chamber maid helped her undress and change into her nightgown. _She carefully waited to hear the sound of her husband's footsteps... As she grew impatient, she snapped at the young chamber maid. Would he ever come? If there was one night that they needed to share the bed, it would the night of their wedding. Hold on, what if Willoughby expected her to come to him.._.?

* * *

The British had viewed Trenton and Princeton as minor American victories; with the actual victories, the Americans were convinced they stood a chance to win the war.

Washington estimated his own army's casualties as 6 or 7 officers and 25 to 30 enlisted men killed, and he was not able to give any numbers for wounded. The Loyalist newspapers, New York Gazette and Weekly Mercury, reported on January 17, 1777 that the American losses at Princeton had been 400 killed and wounded.

* * *

"I'm honored to met such a nice young lady as you appear to be," Mr . Erskine said and placed a kiss on Elinor's hand.

She instantly drew back her hand. "You flatter me, Mr . Erskine."

"Please, Miss Dashwood. We are supposedly engaged, therefore you may call me by my Christian name, Ruari," he chuckled.

"Nice to meet you Mr... I mean Ruari," she said, blushing slightly.

"Let me assure you—Elinor, is it?—that as far as an official announcement of our supposed engagement is yet to be decided," he said softly.

"What do you mean to imply, Ruari?" she asked slowly, raising an eyebrow as she spoke.

"What I mean to say, Elinor, is that you and I have never met prior to today. If your mother had not remarried my maternal uncle, I doubt our paths would have crossed. I know my uncle can appear stubborn and that he seems eager for us to be engaged and eventually married. My uncle means well—his only concern is to see me happy, and he seems to believe marriage is the answers to mostly his prayers. I am not naive, Elinor, I realize you may already be betrothed to someone else, and if you are, I wish you and your fiancé the very best. While my uncle worries about my happiness, I am honestly concerned for yours," he said confidently.

Elinor swallowed hard. "To be perfectly honest, Ruari, there is currently no such arrangement. I doubt there ever will," she said and let out a sigh.

 _Maybe her mother's new husband was right—she needed to marry and marry while she still was young and healthy. She had lost all hope now—it disappeared with the announcement of Mr . Ferrars' engagement to Miss Grey. Ruari Erskine might be the answer to her prayers. The fact that Mr . MacTavish had spoken well about him was slightly reassuring for Elinor. Yet she was slightly disappointed that she would not be married for love, as she used to hold on the thought of marrying for love. Was she prepared to abandon her ideals—ideals that she had stayed true to for what would soon be twenty years? There was no guarantee that a legal union with Mr . Erskine would lead to a happy or even harmonious marriage. What if her heart still refused to forget Edward? Would she always compare her Irish fiancé to her first beau...? She thought of her younger sister, Marianne._ _Her marriage to Lieutenant Colonel Brandon seemed to have developed into a most happy legal union. The difference between Marianne's marriage and her own situation was that the former was based on love, although initially unrequited from Lieutenant Colonel Brandon's side.._. One year into their marriage Mrs . Brandon's affection seemed to have transferred on to her husband. Rumor had it that the many empty rooms at Delaford soon would be occupied with new Brandon heirs... Elinor shook her head. _She would never be Mrs . Edward Ferrars. She would never be a mother to his children—If Mr Erskine was agreeable and acceptable to her, there still was a chance she might become a mother—but she would never be a mother to the children of the only man she ever imagined a future with._ She discreetly picked out a handkerchief to wipe her eyes and blow her nose as she contemplated on her current situation and life and her own expectations...

* * *

Meanwhile, back at Delaford, Lucy had sneaked out into the dark night hoping to encounter none other than her dashing, older, more experienced beau Joe Ferrars. Ever since their rendezvous three months prior, Lucy had not heard a sign from him. _She knew he was preoccupied with defending himself and his troop against the enemy soldiers while also attacking the same enemy. She could only hope that Joe would find his way back to her, and that they both would see each other soon._ She closed her eyes, sighed and let her fingertips gently touch all the places on her face that he had touched. She opened her eyes as soon as she realized she had sighed rather loudly, turned around and attempted to listen for signs that someone might have overheard her. Lucy managed to calm herself down and leaned her body against a tree and began to play with the decolletage of her dress, after which she resumed her previous activity in the security of the dark night. She allowed herself to be brave enough to let her body experience the same feeling of lingering fingers hidden under the layers of clothes. She closed her eyes and wet her lips as her fingertips moved further down her upper torso. _Would he ever come..._?

Joe giggled slightly when he realized what Lucy had been doing while she was supposed to be waiting for him.

"Lucy, my love, I'm here now!" he shouted right into the dark.

I'm here, Joe. I'm here, standing right in front of ya," she whispered startled by his sudden appearance.

He began stroking Lucy's hair. "I have missed you tremendously, dearest."

"I've missed ya too," she confessed with a shivering voice.

Suddenly, he stopped what he previously was doing, gathered his composure, and asked in authoritative voice:

"Tell me Lucy, have you been a good girl while I was away? I sincerely hope you have, otherwise my journey here will have been in vain. I hope my expectations on you are intact and that you given me no reason to be disappointed in you."

"Oh no, Joe, I promise ya I haven't! Don't ya trust me, Joe?" she asked in a thick voice as tears ran down her face.

* * *

The American Revolutionary War was about to pass the two-year mark, and the British began to feel the need to abandon their plans. However, they decided instead that they alone would attempt to split the Thirteen Colonies and isolate New England from what they to interpreted to be the more Loyalist middle and southern colonies. The British command concocted a plan to divide the colonies with a three-way pincer movement under the command of Barry St. Leger. The western pincer was to progress from Ontario through western New York, following the Mohawk River, the southern pincer was to progress up the Hudson River valley from New York, and the northern pincer was to proceed southward from Montreal. The three forces were to meet in the vicinity of Albany, New York, severing New England from the other colonies...


	24. Amor Declarationem

_I need to see her, I need to apologize to her and explain to her that I am not the Mr Ferrars that is married. It is my brother Mr Robert Ferrars that was married to Miss Amelia Grey. I hope she will forgive me—I assume news of my brother's engagement most have reached her by now. I only hope it is not too late, too late for me to ask for Miss Dashwood's hand in marriage. That is the only choice that I foresee worthy and appropriate for such huge misunderstanding. It is Elinor Dashwood that I want as my wife, her or nobody else. It has always been her, Elinor Dashwood, that I've cherished and kept in my heart. She saved my life, helped to keep me safe which enabled me to surrender and switch over to the Colonists at the Battle of Trenton. I owe her my life, and if she wants I will also offer her my present and my future. If I only could be sure she is not already spoken for as some persisting rumors that I overheard many have said..._

* * *

Nancy's fears are a fact, she's pregnant and unmarried not even engaged even though her mother repeatedly lectured her younger sister Lucy. Now, it was her—not Lucy—who seemed to be the one expecting an out-of-wedlock child. If it was any consolation she knew what man who had fathered her supposed child, and because the father also was a colored man unlike Eliza Smith, her child would not be born a mulatto Neither colored, nor completely White—at least Nancy's unborn child would grow up to know its place.

She sighed as she took a deep breath in order to tie her corset tighter over her belly. Mrs MacTavish had kindly warned her not to let her growing belly show so that Mr MacTavish wouldn't see that one of his servants appeared to be more fertile than his own wife...What she did not know, nor did anyone else, was that Mrs MacTavish thought she was expecting and the unborn child was expected to be born at the same time as Nancy's rumored child... Mrs MacTavish went to bed with a smile and huge relief, her husband would finally get his needed legitimate heir... She knew she was not worried about her conflicting feelings about being pregnant and possibly giving birth to her second husband's male heir. She thought it was unfair and even cruel that fate [wc] would have her pregnant with her second husband's male heir when she never was able to give her late first husband a second male heir... She did not sleep well that night. She tossed and turned in between the sheets and when she opened her eyes she felt something wet between her legs; she stuck down her hand to feel while hoping that it would not be blood, any blood... Before she could see if it was blood or not between her legs she felt an excruciating [sp] pain in her belly. She instinctively placed her hand over her stomach as to protect the unborn life, while attempting to stop the minor blood flow in between her legs. Mrs MacTavish began to shiver, and tears began to stream from the corner of her eyes... She could only imagine what her husband would feel about her now, he would not only be disappointed in her he would be crushed if he ever found out Mrs MacTavish lost his unborn child... Poor Mrs MacTavish wished she still had her daughters in her life. Mrs O'Shennessy was familiar with the female body , just as Mrs Brandon knew of married life, yet Miss Dashwood, the oldest of her three daughters, was still not even as much as officially engaged, which made Annie hesitate to confide her loss to her... Instead she used a handkerchief to wipe away her tears, blinked and swallowed hard, after which she opened the door to her bedchamber and called out for the chambermaid . The sheets in her bed needed to be changed and washed before her husband came [verb tense] to share her bed. As his husband it was within his legal right to demand marital relations.

* * *

British General John Burgoyne moved south from the province of Quebec in June 1777 to gain control of the upper Hudson River valley. His campaign had become bogged down in difficulties following a victory at Fort Ticonderoga. Elements of the army had reached the upper Hudson as early as the end of July, but logistical and supply difficulties delayed the main army at Fort Edward. One attempt to alleviate these difficulties failed when nearly 1,000 men were killed or captured at the August 16 Battle of Bennington. Furthermore, news reached Burgoyne on August 28 that St. Leger's expedition down the Mohawk River valley had turned back after the failed Siege of Fort Stanwix.

General William Howe had taken his army from New York City by sea on a campaign to capture Philadelphia instead of moving north to meet Burgoyne. Most of Burgoyne's Indian support had fled following the loss at Bennington, and his situation was becoming difficult. He needed to reach defensible winter quarters, requiring either a retreat to Ticonderoga or advance to Albany , and he decided to advance. He then deliberately cut communications to the north so that he would not need to maintain a chain of heavily fortified outposts between his position and Ticonderoga, and he decided to cross the Hudson River while he was in a relatively strong [[relatively strong what. He ordered Baron Riedesel, who commanded the rear of the army, to abandon outposts from Skenesborough [sp] south, and then had the army cross the Hudson just north of Saratoga between September 13 and 15.

* * *

Mrs O'Shennessy was both relieved and sad when she gave birth to her late husband's second child. Margaret gave birth to a daughter in a posthumous birth. The child, her husband's daughter, would never get to know her father... She needed a name and Margaret decided that she would be christened Melissa Eibhleann. Her female godparents would be Miss Elinor Dashwood, Mrs Jennings and Mr John Dashwood. The godparents of her son was Lieutenant Colonel Brandon, Mr Dashwood and Lady Middleton. If anything ever were to happen to her she assumed her children's godparents would accept their new responsibility, preferably not separating the two siblings if such a tragedy were to happen...

"Mrs Jennings, I hope you will accept the responsibility of being my daughter's female godparent."

"I most certainly will, child, it would be an honor."

"Choosing you as Melissa's female godparent seemed as natural to me as the year's four different seasons. I confess that I still struggle with the selection of my daughter's other female godparent as well as the task of choosing her male godparent."

"Haven't you heard that Colonel Ferrars deserted to the loyalists at the Battle of Trenton? He has been loyal towards our cause ever since."

"Really? If you are correctly informed I suppose that Mr Ferrars might have to be assigned the task of being my daughter's male godparent. Although I doubt he will be able to fill my late husband's shoes."

"I suppose you couldn't accept your stepbrother's wife Fanny as the other female godparent. Considering that Mrs Brandon is the female godparent to your son that leaves your older still unmarried sister Elinor, whose loyalties remains undecided until the day of her I heard rumors that an official engagement announcement between her and one of your Scottish stepfather's cousins are near."

At least now Margaret was free, at last she could join her husband's comrades she had this urge to finish what her husband never managed to. She knew she could not do that if she still dressed as a woman. She could not wear dresses if she was to fight a war, nor could she ride side saddle as was customary for any married woman of rank . Fortunately she had insisted on keeping all her late husband's clothes, now she was relieved she had done so as she soon realized her husband's clothes also fitted her. Margaret had always loathed riding side saddle. The only time she ever had was on her wedding day... She sighed as she looked at the image in the mirror, and began to loosen the hair pins that had kept her lucious hair neatly gathered in a modest bun. She touched the blade of her husband's razor knife...


End file.
